


(We Should Just Kiss) Like Real People Do

by Bre



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Canon, Canon Related, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy, Happy Ending, Road Trips, Romantic Fluff, Shameless Smut, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, road trip fic drive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:04:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 38,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3970273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bre/pseuds/Bre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt-inspired ficlets covering Oliver and Felicity's road trip after 3x23 "My Name is Oliver Queen."</p>
<p>Covers everything from the fluffiest fluff to silliness to gratuitous smut to ridiculous happiness to some angst.</p>
<p>I always accept prompts -  <a href="http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/">send me an ask on Tumblr</a> - and check out <a href="http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/tagged/road-trip-fic-drive">this tag</a> for recent updates!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happy

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hozier's song "Like Real People Do." (I literally cannot name anything without music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 3x23 ficlet. Oliver is _happy_.

Sunlight woke him.

Oliver groaned, squeezing his eyes shut to force the sun away but it persisted as it forced him awake. 

It was _hot_.

Oliver shifted, kicking the sheet off his legs, sighing in relief when the cool breeze coming off the ocean caressed his heated skin.

Eyes still closed, Oliver slowly slid an arm across the bed, fully expecting to find her warmth waiting for him; despite the day already starting to heat everything up, he wanted _her_ warmth, wanted to bury his face in her neck, cuddle her into his arms… but the other side of the bed was empty.

Oliver patted the empty space for a second, the cold sheets feeling amazing against his hot skin before he forced one eye open.

He was alone.

“Felicity?” he whispered, his voice coming out in a sleep-addled croak that was less words and more random sounds. The room was empty, the french doors open, the silky white curtains blowing into the room from the wind coming off the sea.

Oliver took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and then he closed his eyes again, letting his head fall back onto his pillow.

It had taken a few weeks for him to not wake up in a panic - from being in a strange place to hearing an odd noise to not having Felicity right next to him.

But those few weeks had passed, slowly melting into a steady confidence that things were _okay_ , and were going to stay okay.

No life or death situations waited for him. No critical decisions rested on his shoulders with no good outcomes either way. There was no sacrificing anything.

It was just… peace. Quiet. Joy.

_Happiness._

A few minutes later, Oliver checked the time - nearly ten in the morning.

Another thing that had changed: he slept. _A lot._

He felt like he was catching up on all the years he’d missed.

_“I love watching you sleep,” Felicity said softly, brushing her thumb over his brow, and then her hand stopped. “Well, that sounded creepier than I intended it to, I don’t just sit around watching you sleep all the time. I mean, it’s sort of inevitable since we sleep in the same bed, but…”_

_Oliver chuckled quietly._

_Felicity’s hand started moving again, caressing his face, her eyes following every tiny line as she whispered, “You always smile when you sleep now. Like you’re…”_

_Felicity paused, her hand moving to his lips where she followed the defined lines until he pressed a soft kiss to her fingertip._

_“Happy,” she finished._

_Oliver reached up, clasping her hand in his, pressing light kisses to each fingertip, his eyes never leaving hers as he kissed her palm, and then her pulse point._

_“I am happy,” Oliver whispered, pulling her into his arms, kissing her so softly it ached. “Very, very happy.”_

Oliver rolled out of bed, calling, “Felicity?” but no answer.

Glancing around again, he headed to the bathroom before slipping on his discarded shorts, stepping into the living room of the beach house they’d rented for the week. Their clothes from the night before were still strewn about, a jagged line leading to the couch because the bedroom had been too far away. Freshly brewed coffee was in the air and he ambled into the kitchen, stretching his back.

Coffee in hand, Oliver looked around again, wondering where she’d gotten off to when he caught a white blur outside.

Felicity stood on the beach, hair down and blowing in the wind, wearing the green t-shirt he’d worn to dinner and nothing else. It was long enough that it grazed her mid-thigh but she still had one hand wrapped around the hem to keep it from blowing up.

Oliver leaned against the window jamb, watching her as she ambled about, stopping to stare at the ocean one second and then seeing something on the beach the next. She scooped to pick something up, the shirt riding up to reveal the perfect roundness of her ass. She tossed the rock she’d picked up, before finding another one, walking closer to the waves, dancing away before they could get her.

Oliver knew he would remember this simple moment for the rest of his life.

He was _happy_.

He was _free_.

And he was with her. Always with her. She looked light as a feather moving around, a literal ray of sunshine in and of herself, the light in his life, the guiding force, his _reason_ for still existing…

He loved her _so much_.

Where once upon a time a simple look of that light was enough to sustain him, to get him through until the next look, and then the next one… now it wasn’t enough.

Because she was his, and he was hers, and this was their time.

Setting his coffee down, Oliver went outside to join her.

An elderly couple walking along the beach several yards away watched in amusement as the younger couple talked to each other, touching each other only the way people who knew the other intimately touched.

The man laughed, the woman beaming up at him, the smile on her face blinding. He cupped her face, kissing her lightly… before he grabbed her coffee mug and tossed it over his shoulder.

“Oh no, that is not happening, Oliver,” the woman said, shaking her head and backing away, but the man was already moving, throwing her over his shoulder before running into the waves.

The woman’s shrieks echoed up and down the beach.

Her husband hummed at her side. “Even I can see those two fools are ridiculously in love.”

She smirked, watching them in the ocean, watching the man pull her close, hiking her into his arms, simple kisses and soft talk turning into something much more passionate.

“Let’s give them some privacy,” she said, hooking her arm through her husband’s, leaving the young couple to themselves.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/118929925404/happy-post-3x23-ficlet-olicity)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse. Thank you for reading!


	2. Let's Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - jelizabethl asked: Fic prompt for you or anyone else: Felicity at home packing to leave with Oliver and then Oliver arriving to pick her up. Fluff, please!

What exactly does one bring on a spontaneous random road trip that a day ago she never would have thought would be happening?

Will it be casual? Should she bring a dress or two? What about _shoes_? If she was going to bring that white dress, she needed to bring those gold heels with the black buckle that matched the little black belt, so maybe she shouldn’t bring that dress. Skirts, skirts were good, but so were jeans. Everything was good. Should she bring something to sleep in?

_Ha, no._

Felicity’s face warmed at that thought and she stopped where she’d been shoving two pairs of jeans into her suitcase, thinking back to the one good thing that had happened in Nanda Parbat, to their single night together, thinking about how she would most definitely not be needing sleeping clothes.

And then she _giggled_. 

Because Oliver was coming to get her.

_And they were going away together._

They were going away together.

And if she had anything to say about it, eighty percent of this trip was going to be clothes optional.

“Alright, so no to that,” she said, pulling the extra shirts she’d packed for just that reason, tossing them over her shoulder.

Maybe she’d sleep in one of his shirts. The thought made her chest constrict. She was going to be able to actually sleep in her boyfriend’s - wait, is that what they were? Were they boyfriend and girlfriend? What did she call him now? He had always just been _Oliver_.

For about five seconds, they’d been a _thing_ , but it was never a thing thing, so what… a next-level thing?

No.

They were just… Oliver and Felicity. Felicity and Oliver.

They were together, that’s what they were.

“Oh wow, this is really happening,” Felicity whispered to her suitcase. She stared at the stuff she’d already packed before shaking her head. All she needed was Oliver, and she had him. The rest was… fluff. Felicity pulled out the clothes she’d carefully stowed before grabbing a pile of t-shirts and jeans, shorts, her bathing suit, some random shoes and enough underwear to last her a week. And socks. Always pack socks.

Her phone buzzed and Felicity’s throat jumped into her throat.

_‘Almost there. :)’_

“Oh my god, did you just really text me a smiley face?” Felicity asked, shaking her head, a stupid grin threatening to break her face. Biting her lip, Felicity typed out, _‘Can’t wait,’_ and closed her suitcase, grabbing her purse. She glanced in the mirror over her dresser and did a double take at the woman staring back at her - she wore a white dress with a small white jacket, her hair half up, and The Earrings she’d shoved to the very bottom of her jewelry box.

She looked… _happy_.

Felicity was opening her door just as Oliver was raising his hand to knock.

He grinned and her heart stopped.

He looked… a thin sheen of tears blurred her vision for a second before she blinked them away. Now was really not the time to get sappy over the fact that Oliver actually looked _carefree_ for the first time in his life.

Because he’d chosen her, them.

“Hi,” he said softly and Felicity took a shaky breath, giving him a radiant smile.

“Hi.”

“You ready?” he asked, taking her suitcase from her. He moved to leave, byt paused when she didn’t follow. “Felicity?”

Felicity stared up at him, her lips trembling with the emotion, feeling the need to at least temper the ridiculous smile that kept wanting to erupt all over her face. His brow furrowed, and he stepped back towards her, his mouth opening to say who the hell knew what when Felicity reached up and cupped his neck, silencing him, her thumb running over the stubble of his jaw.

Oliver’s face softened. Neither of them spoke for a moment, just _basking_ , when she rose up to kiss him.

It was barely a brush of their lips, soft and gentle and probably nothing to write home about if anyone were witnessing it, but it was _everything_.

It was them.

She pulled back enough to see his eyes closed, a content smile on his lips.

“I’m so ready,” she said, and Oliver’s smile morphed into a contagious grin. He stepped out and Felicity locked up her apartment. Oliver’s hand found her lower back and he steered her towards a… “Uh, Oliver?”

“Yeah?”

“What is that?”

“This is what they call a car,” he replied cheekily, and Felicity froze, watching him open the hood, placing her bag in next to his.

“Did you just make a joke?” Felicity asked. Oliver smiled as he came around and opened her door for her. “Do you feel okay? Do you need to sit down?”

His laugh was quick and involuntary, light and beautiful, something she’d never heard before. Oliver shook his head slightly, his hand finding her shoulder. He slid it up her neck and into her hair and he tipped her face back, his lips finding hers again.

This kiss was most definitely _not_ soft and gentle, and she wanted _so much more_.

“I love you,” he breathed against her lips, and she grinned. “Let’s go.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/118951899719/fic-prompt-for-you-or-anyone-else-felicity-at)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my muse and soul. Thank you for reading!


	3. Where Did You Learn To Drive Like This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: Road trip prompt: Felicity's turn to drive and Oliver being all turned on cause she can handle a stick better than anyone he knows. I don't even know if that makes sense but I just want some sexy Olicity after last night lol. You are an angel for allowing us to enjoy your work!

Three weeks. 

It had been three weeks of driving, of stopping at tourist spots, eating at questionable diners, drinking both the world’s best coffee and the world’s worst coffee, staying at skeevy motels and nice hotels, walking on the beach, fixing a flat tire…

It had been three weeks of nothing but them - they didn’t listen to the radio or watch TV; they talked. The world around them didn’t exist anymore outside of the tiny bubble they had created for themselves, and Oliver had never been happier than he had been in the last few weeks. It had taken a while for him to finally relax - and by relax he meant not constantly looking over his shoulder, constantly looking for danger; it took a few days to realize he could just exist without something horrible happening as a result.

That he could lay in bed all day with the love of his life, hiding under the sheets as they talked about anything and everything, learning every inch of each other’s bodies, finding out what they liked, what pushed them higher…

It was pure, unadulterated bliss, and Oliver was absolutely addicted to it.

And now Oliver’s eyes were glued to her as she drove, smoothly shifting gears.

She’d switched to contacts so she could wear her sunglasses against the high sun beating down on them in the open convertible. Her hair was up, loose strands getting tangled in the wind whipping past them. She was wearing one of his button-up shirts, the sleeves rolled up, the bottom tied off at her midriff, showing off her toned - and now very tanned - stomach, and shorts that were… distracting. As were the scuff marks and light hickies he’d left all over her neck, trailing down her chest.

The possessive streak that hit his chest wasn’t as unexpected as it had been when he’d first woken up after their first night on the road and realized he’d marked the hell out of her.

He wanted to feel ashamed and embarrassed that he’d gotten so carried away, but he couldn’t even pretend to feel it. She was his, and he felt some ridiculously primordial urge to shout it from the rooftops, making sure everyone knew.

It helped that she’d given him a flimsy talking-to when she’d finally noticed them in the mirror later that morning… she liked it too.

Oliver couldn’t keep his eyes off her. It didn’t matter what she was doing, he loved _watching_ her. He wanted to know everything about her; he wanted to memorize as much as he could, keep every single moment they spent together locked away deep inside, cherished and beautiful.

Felicity switched gears again, the car moving so smoothly he barely felt it as she increased the speed, opening the car up on the open highway. They were making their way back down the coast again, having pushed out into the surrounding states before deciding Mexico was a fun option.

She shifted again and Oliver watched her legs moving, her muscles flexing - and she was wearing heeled sandals nonetheless. Her movements were confident, in control… and fucking hot as hell.

She had a slight smile on her lips, one that was always present these days, her eyes on the road, sometimes drifting around to take in the coast, the sun reflecting off the water…

It was perfect.

_She_ was perfect.

And she was driving the Porsche like it was second nature.

Oliver reached over as she shifted again, his fingers lightly brushing her bare arm as he leaned closer to her, his hand sliding down to her naked thigh. Her smile slowly turned into a grin when he pressed a series of soft kisses to her cheek, blazing a trail to her earlobe that he sucked into his mouth for a quick second - her breath hitched, her foot nearly slipping off the clutch before she caught herself - and then down her neck.

“Oliver, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed,” Felicity said, raising her voice to be heard over the wind, but it was already strained, and he grinned against her skin. “But I’m driving.”

“I have definitely noticed,” Oliver replied, running his hand up and down her thigh. Her muscles moved under his touch as she drove, and his body tightened in response.

Everything Felicity did turned him on - it didn’t matter if it was her turning to give him a sloppy kiss in the morning, a line of drool dried on her face, makeup smudged everywhere, or if she was clipping her toenails, or if she was wearing that sexy bikini she’d bought when she’d seen the way his eyes had zeroed in on it at that cheesy shop… Everything she did turned him on, including driving his car better than even he did. She arched her head back, giving him more access, and he retraced the little marks he’d left the night before with his lips.

He made his way back to her ear, delighting in the little shiver she gave him as he whispered, “Where did you learn to drive like this?”

“I’m not as innocent as I seem, Mr. Queen,” she replied, her voice low and husky, and he wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t right next to her.

Oliver hummed, nuzzling her neck, tasting the sweet saltiness of her skin.

She moaned when he pressed his hand between her thighs, her skin sticky from the hot sun.

Felicity turned her head into his, her eyes still on the road, pressing her face against his as he wiggled his fingers until he reached the juncture between her legs. She gasped when he pressed them against the thick seam of her denim shorts, and she spread her legs, giving him more access.

Oliver smiled, nipping at her neck, and Felicity jerked, making the car swerve.

“Oliver, this is dangerous, get off me,” she said, shoving him back with her shoulder but it was the most pathetic attempt he’d ever felt as she simultaneously leaned back into him.

Oliver pressed his fingers against her heat, rubbing in small circles that had her gasping, her hands tightening on the wheel and the stick shift. Her breathing grew shallower as he rubbed her through her jeans, his lips never leaving her neck, laving the skin, marking her anew. Even thinking the word ‘marking’ had Oliver biting her a little harder, despite knowing he was going to get an earful about it later.

“Oliver, please,” she whispered, her voice cracking. Her throat flexed as she swallowed, shifting the car again, maneuvering around him. The movement of her legs letting the gas go long enough to press on the clutch had his fingers pushing harder against her and she let out a tiny, “Ooh,” her hips moving to meet them.

Oliver rubbed her through her shorts in short hard circles, pushing the seam against her slick folds. Her panties moved smoothly, and he knew she was wet, and growing wetter with each second that passed, her hips starting to rotate in time with his fingers, tiny gasps leaving her mouth.

“Felicity, pull over,” he whispered into her ear and she didn’t waste a second, doing just that.

When she yanked the parking brake in place, she went to take her seat belt off but Oliver pinned her to her seat, pressing his fingers harder between her legs, forcing her legs wider.

“Oh god, Oliver,” Felicity moaned, her head falling back, one hand gripping his shirt in a tight fist, the other wrapping around the wrist of the hand between her legs. She met his every move, her hips moving faster, her grip on his wrist growing tighter. “Yes, yes… yes, don’t stop… don’t stop…!”

Oliver’s wrist started to burn with the exertion but he pushed past it, rubbing her clit harder through her shorts, rubbing everything, and she let out a soft yelp, pushing his hand against herself harder, thrusting up against it, chasing her release. He sucked on the delicate skin of her neck, slipping up to her jaw and then to her ear where he took her earlobe into his mouth again and bit into it softly.

Felicity froze, her back arching, her mouth opened in a silent scream before her orgasm crashed through her.

“Ooooh god… Oliver!” she cried out, her hips undulating against his hand, her grip on him so tight it was painful as she came. He felt the rush of her pleasure soaking through the denim and he cupped her harder, making her keel loudly before she finally slumped in her seat.

“Oh wow,” she breathed, her lungs working overtime, her fingers rhythmically squeezing his wrist as she came back down.

“You are so beautiful, Felicity,” he said softly, rubbing his stubble against the delicate new bruises on her neck and she sighed, her head falling back to give him more access. “The noises you make when you come… I love the way you hold on to me, how pink you get…”

“Oliver,” Felicity whispered, her voice needy and she turned to him, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulled his lips to hers. He kissed her with a passion that she equaled, and she swallowed his moans. He pulled her as close as her belt would allow, needing to feel every inch of her against him, and he growled deep in his chest when her hand drifted down his front and towards his shorts.

He pulled back, shoving his forehead against hers. “Felicity, if you do that, we won’t be moving for hours.”

She gave him a breathy chuckle, kissing him again, before saying, “We passed a motel a few miles back…”

Oliver’s response was to kiss her, his teeth clashing against hers with an urgency she felt deep in her bones and he wrapped his arm around her waist, his fingers digging into her hip.

A few minutes later, they finally pulled onto the road again, going the opposite direction this time… because they had all the time in the world for just them, and they were going to take it.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/118969980879/road-trip-prompt-felicitys-turn-to-drive-and)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse. Thank you for reading!


	4. Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: Road trip prompt: holding hands in the car

She’d always had a fixation with Oliver’s hands.

It had almost become a habit over time, to look over and stare at them for a minute, watch them while he was consumed by his work, whether that was making arrowheads or cleaning his suit or training.

His fingers were long and graceful, the backs of his hands worn and lined from years of stress, work and constant sun. They were always warm when he touched her shoulder, and the callouses he’d gained from his five years away, from all his time spent with his bow, which should be hard and painful, were soft.

She always shivered when he touched her elbow, when she felt them.

His hands were like him - strong, surprisingly gentle.

It didn’t escape her attention that Oliver liked to _touch_.

He wasn’t very verbal, especially in the early days; he was completely unaware of how expressive his face could be when he let his guard slip, even a little, but touching… 

Touching was his way of speaking.

_“I’m happy.”_

His simple words still echoed between them as they drove, the sun slowly setting behind them, turning everything a gorgeous dusky orange.

Felicity leaned back in her seat, sneaking a glance at him.

He was completely relaxed in his seat, tired eyes on the road, his lips pulled up in a tiny, barely-there serene smile… but it was there. The warm glow that had ignited in the pit of her stomach when he’d looked at her earlier - when he’d asked her if she wanted to come with him - had steadily grown, spreading through her, filling her with his happiness as much as hers.

His grip on the steering wheel was firm, his other hand resting on the stick shift.

Without looking away from the road, Felicity watched Oliver reach over, his hand finding hers like they were drawn to each other.

Felicity bit her lip when his index finger rubbed against the back of her hand softly, giving her goosebumps, before he turned her hand over, sliding his fingers between hers, clasping her hand tightly in his.

Felicity held him back just as tightly, closing her eyes briefly, the feeling overwhelming her.

His thumb ran up and over her index finger lovingly.

Felicity glanced over at him, her heart clenching when his small smile slowly grew. He pulled their hands up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand, and all the residual tension from the last several months melted away.

Felicity’s eyes stayed on him as he drove them into their future.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/118980848264/road-trip-prompt-holding-hands-in-the-car)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse. Thank you for reading!


	5. (Unofficial) First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: Prompt: its a long drive, and they talk about everything and nothing all at once. (idk, I just really want an Olicity carefree, flirty convo)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this got kinda silly. This is just dialogue.

“First broken bone?”

“College. Freshman year. Not exactly the easiest transition going from a dry desert that saw maybe a dusting of snow every couple of decades to Boston, which is absolutely terrifying in the winter. Have you ever been to Boston during a snowstorm? I’ll make it easy for you: don’t go.”

“What happened?”

“My shoes happened. And ice happened. And then my face hitting the ground happened - that’s where I got this scar under my nose. I tried to catch myself, and I did this twisting maneuver that any ballet teacher would have applauded, and broke my arm. It’s actually where I met Cooper, he saw the whole thing and helped me to the hospital. I cried the entire way in the back of a cab because I missed my first class of the semester.”

“Cooper. The ex-boyfriend.”

“Yes, the ex-boyfriend… who turned out to be a sort of sociopath, but he wasn’t sociopathic then. Not that I know many sociopaths… er, well, I guess I do, if you count Malcolm. Slade Wilson, Ra’s… Alright, so I might know a few. He didn’t exhibit any of those tendencies… Okay, my turn. First dog.”

“We never had a dog. We had a cat once, but I think it was Raisa’s. I don’t remember it very well, I was really young, it was before Thea was born. You?”

“No. Dogs weren’t really good pets for trailers. Pets in general weren’t good for trailers. Besides, my mom and I were never really home. She was working all the time.”

“You didn’t like being at home?”

“You couldn’t really call it a home. It was a while before she got her house, and the trailer just reminded me of my dad. When I realized he wasn’t coming back, I didn’t like being there anymore… And that totally counted as two for you.”

“What? That’s not fair.”

“The game is about questions, Oliver, and you asked two, so I get two… Bah ah ah! No interrupting. How about your first kiss?”

“Oh… well.”

“Are you blushing? Is Oliver Queen actually blushing about his first kiss? You have to tell me now, if it’s making _you_ blush.”

“For the record, that’s a sunburn.”

“No, it’s not, you’re blushing. Tell me.”

“Well… the official story is my first kiss was with Bridgette Westry in sixth grade. We dated for a month afterwards. It was pretty serious.”

“Official…”

“Mmhmm,”

“This is the part where you elaborate.”

“I… that is the kiss I acknowledge as my first, so that’s my answer.”

“Oliver.”

“You still have your other question.”

“You’re going to make me use my second question?”

“Does that count as a question?”

“That does _not_ count as a question, you jerk.”

“You made up this game, not me.”

“Fine. Turning my game around on me… What was your _unofficial_ first kiss?”

“…”

“A non-answer is not an answer.”

“… It was Tommy.”

“What?”

“It was Tommy.”

“Oh no, I heard you… I just need to… okay, I’m good, I’m good. I think it’s sweet…”

“Stop laughing.”

“I’m laughing with you!”

“I’m not laughing…”

“Those weird noises coming out of you right now? That’s called laughing.”

“Ha ha.”

“Alright, okay, okay… I need to hear how this happened.”

“It’s not that exciting. You ever play that game Suck & Blow?”

“… you mean that game they played in Clueless? You watched Clueless?”

“I _did_ watch Clueless, with Thea, a lot later, but no; it was recess and Chelsea Kelman had just gotten to see it in the theater. She told everyone about it, making it sound like the greatest thing ever, so we played.”

“A little mature for little kids, isn’t it?”

“We didn’t know what we were doing.”

“I wouldn’t have played that game.”

“Why?”

“Because… cooties. Don’t laugh, those were a serious concern.”

“Alright. Well, we were playing the game, but there weren’t enough girls, and somehow Tommy and I wound up next to each other… and Tommy wasn’t very good at the, uh, sucking part.”

“Oh god, this sounds so bad.”

“This is why it’s the unofficial story.”

“So he dropped the paper and you…”

“Full on mouth-to-mouth.”

“No…”

“Yes. And we just froze, which made it worse.”

“Oh my god…”

“I was mortified. It ruined my cool.”

“Your cool? Oh, Oliver…”

“Hey, I had cool. I had a lot of cool back then.”

“What happened after?”

“I punched him.”

“You punched him?”

“And then he punched me.”

“Well, you punched him, of course he punched you! … Wow. That is the sort of story you tell at Thanksgiving every year.”

“Oh, he did his fair share of that. And that included reenacting.”

“I think I would have liked Tommy.”

“Yeah… yeah, you would have. He was a good guy.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/119075386029/prompt-its-a-long-drive-and-they-talk-about)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse. Thank you for reading!


	6. New Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: Prompt: In the spirit of Oliver's 30 birthday, Olicity birthday sex!

_“I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”_

_“I’m not saying we make a big deal out of it…”_

_“But putting attention on it would be making a big deal out of it. I have everything I want for my birthday, Felicity. I have you.”_

Felicity stared at the motel door, the cupcake balanced in her hands, waiting for the telltale sound of the card slipping into the lock, signalling his return. She had the lighter poised to light the single candle sitting in the overly sweet frosting that was piled high.

Candlelight from the dinner she’d set out behind her flickered against the walls, her shadow dancing along with them. She wasn’t sure how he was going to take this. She knew he wouldn’t be upset, but he’d made it pretty clear that celebrating his birthday wasn’t his favorite thing to do in the world. And she knew he had his reasons - namely, Tommy - but the entire point of this road trip was about new beginnings.

Fresh starts. 

And that included his birthday, if she had anything to say about it. They’d spent the entire day driving, doing what they’d done for the last two weeks… until now.

Felicity jumped when she heard a shuffle of feet outside the door, and then the card key.

“Oh,” she said, flicking the lighter to life. It caught on the first go and she quickly lit the candle, flinging the lighter away just as Oliver opened the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her. “Hi.”

Oliver didn’t respond right away, his eyes roving around the room before finding her again. She bit her lips, waiting for his reaction.

“Felicity…”

“Oliver,” she interrupted. She closed the distance, keeping the cupcake level between them. He stared at it with an unreadable expression. She kept her eyes on his face as she reached out and grabbed the grocery bag in his fingers, setting it on the floor. He was still staring at the cupcake and she ducked down to catch his eye. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I did, actually.” Felicity found his hand, lacing her fingers through his and pulling him from the door entry. He didn’t move for a second, his eyes still on the cupcake before he sighed, letting the door fall shut as he followed her. “We are making new memories, Oliver, including this one.”

He didn’t reply.

When they reached the table, Felicity put the cupcake down and turned back to him. He was staring at the table, a melancholy smile on his face, his eyes shinier than they had been a moment ago. Felicity paused when she saw that, a bundle of nerves jumping to life in her stomach that maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea… they were still in that weird honeymoon phase where they could talk and say anything, but they hadn’t delved too much past skin-deep just yet. They were starting to, but not _this_ deep. Not deep enough for her to poke the obvious sleeping bear of emotions in his eyes.

But it was as good a time as any, and she would be damned if she was going to sit back and let Oliver skate past this. It wasn’t just his birthday. It was so much more… and they’d done enough running from each other.

Felicity grabbed his jacket, pushing it back and off his shoulders. His eyes flew back to her and she stared up at him, the silence between them growing long, but it was comfortable as he shrugged, letting her catch his jacket. She threw it on one of the beds, taking his hand again and ushering him towards one of the seats.

“You cooked?” Oliver asked, the amusement in his voice tarnished by something heavier. 

Felicity sat down, snorting at the lasagna on the paper plates she’d set out from the Fazoli’s in town. “I can hack into any government agency in the world, but the mysteries of the cheese and meat layers in lasagna still frazzle me.”

Oliver chuckled, scooting his chair in, but he didn’t touch anything. The candlelight flickered against his face, highlighting the shadows that still lived under his eyes, in the deep crevices he’d gained over the last several years.

He still had nightmares, although they were getting less frequent, and he still had moments where he just stopped and stared, lost in thought, moments that she had to pull him out of in order to bring him back to reality.

He was getting better about talking, they both were. She’d known it wasn’t going to be as easy as 1-2-3 with their relationship - they’d been close, but not this kind of close, and they couldn’t just ignore the last couple of months, because so much had happened, so much had started to chip away at the bond they shared…

But they were both trying, and that was what was important.

Like right now.

Felicity picked up her plastic cup of the cheap champagne she’d gotten at the liquor store across the street and raised her glass, urging Oliver to do the same.

“To many, many more birthdays, if I have anything to say about it.” Oliver smiled, some warmth seeping back into his eyes, and Felicity grinned. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” he said softly and she took a sip - and it was bitter and horrible champagne - but stopped when Oliver didn’t.

Instead he stared at one of the candle flames, lost in thought.

“Oliver,” she started. “Is this…”

“Hmm?”

She sighed. “This was a bad idea.”

“No.” Oliver shook his head. “No, it wasn’t.” He set his cup down, pushing his chair out as he waved at her. “Come here?”

Felicity raised an eyebrow before setting her cup down, pushing her chair out, making her way to him.

Oliver’s hands immediately found her hips, pulling her closer, slipping down her thighs, urging her to straddle him on the rickity wooden chair. It groaned slightly, but held steady as she settled on top of him, her arms winding around his neck. The chairs were short enough that she could easily touch the ground, but his knees kept her balanced as he ran his hands up and down her sides before wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.

“The last birthday I celebrated was with my mom and Thea,” Oliver said softly. And then a smile lit his tone as he added, “And then Tommy, later… Before the island.” He must have felt her stiffen at that revelation because he squeezed her harder. “I couldn’t keep track of time on the island, or in Hong Kong, and I didn’t want to in Russia, because… it wasn’t a big deal.

“And then… when I came back, the next one was when Tommy…”

“Oliver, I’m so sorry,” Felicity whispered. “I didn’t mean…”

“No, this is perfect, Felicity,” Oliver said, his voice cracking and Felicity held him tighter. “This is perfect. I didn’t want to celebrate it because it wasn’t a big deal anymore. It was just another day.” He sighed, and he buried his face in her chest, lifting his legs to push her further into him. Felicity scratched at his scalp, her fingers carding through his hair that was growing back to her Oliver-length, the apprehension in her chest loosening as he continued, “I want to celebrate it, with you. I want to celebrate everything with you. I want to make new memories.”

“Then let’s make some,” Felicity said, and she pulled back just enough to look down at him. A burst of emotion tightened her throat when she saw the sheen of tears in his eyes… but they weren’t sad tears. They were tears of happiness, new life… rebirth, and acceptance. “Just me and you.”

“Me and you,” he repeated, nodding, and he stretched up, pressing his lips to hers. He moaned softly, his grip on her tightening, his legs hiking up, pushing her further into his lap and Felicity wound her legs around him as much as she could, pressing down. Oliver groaned, the sound reverberating through his chest as he used his grip on her shoulders to push her down harder.

They stayed like that for a long while, holding each other, moving against each other, the heat slowly building until their movements became more urgent. Soft whimpers escaped Oliver’s throat as his hands fell down to her hips, gripping them to get more friction. Felicity’s breath hitched, the dull pleasure through both their jeans starting to blossom into something more…

His hands moved to her ass where he gripped her tightly, sending a spike of pleasure through her before they moved down her thighs and then back up.

“Why are you wearing jeans?” Oliver whispered and Felicity snorted against his lips in laughter.

“Because walking around without pants isn’t socially acceptable,” she replied. She cupped his face, her nails scratching at his neck, making him shiver underneath her. She did it again, getting the same reaction. “Why are you wearing jeans?”

“Because I don’t look nearly as good in skirts as you do,” he said and Felicity laughed, a full-bodied laugh that had them both vibrating in the chair.

Oliver grinned up at her, all the sadness from a moment ago washed away. He reached up, holding her face between his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For loving me,” Oliver replied honestly, and Felicity’s stomach dropped. His eyes followed his thumb as he moved one to touch her nose, her lips, her jaw line. “You’ve given me everything, Felicity.”

Emotion choked her, silencing her. She didn’t know what to say to the pure love shining at her through his eyes. He suddenly blurred from tears as she gave him a blinding smile before she kissed him, a searing kiss that they both felt deep into their bones.

Oliver moaned, his hands cupping her ass.

He stood without warning, making Felicity squeal in shock against his lips. He didn’t let her break the kiss though, his lips demanding more from her that she readily handed over as he pulled her up, walking the few feet over to the bed where he lowered them both down.

The instant her back touched the mattress, he thrust his hips against hers, and she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. He swallowed the noises she made greedily, kissing her with ardor, before pulling away abruptly.

Felicity’s arms fell back, her chest heaving for air, his fingers finding her jeans, which he deftly undid in jerky movements.

“Wait,” Felicity said, pushing herself up on her elbows. “I should be undressing you. It’s _your_ birthday.”

“You’re my present,” Oliver replied with a pleased smile. “I’m unwrapping you.”

Felicity giggled, staying up on her elbows, lifting her hips to help him as he tugged her jeans off. “That is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever head.”

Oliver gave her a smile, a purely unfiltered happy smile that made her chest hurt. He threw her jeans to the side before pulling her panties off. He stood back, yanking his shirt off, his eyes never leaving hers as his jeans and boxer briefs followed, his shoes getting kicked off under the bed. Felicity sat up, pulling her shirt up and Oliver was already there, his hard erection bouncing before her. He pulled her shirt up and off, throwing it to join his clothes, his hands already finding her bra clasp that he immediately slid down her arms.

He moved to push her back, but Felicity stopped him, grabbing his hips, her eyes on an entirely different prize. “Hold on.”

Oliver sucked in a short breath, and Felicity looked up to find him starting down at her with dark, heated eyes. Never breaking eye contact, she leaned forward, her lips circling the head of his cock.

Oliver hissed, his eyes fluttering shut, but he forced them back open, keeping his eyes on her as she slowly worked her way down his length, her tongue massaging him along the way. It was gentle and sensual and pure torture, a rush of warmth flooding her sex as he watched her taste him. He thrust his fingers into her hair. tangling them in the strands, moving his hips slowly as she sucked.

“Oh god, Felicity,” he whispered, his fingers digging into her scalp. She kept up an easy rhythm, her tongue swiping over the tip, flicking against the soft slit that was already weeping with precum, before going back down. She reached around him, gripping his ass and he moaned her name again, his breathing getting heavy as he thrust into her mouth.

“Condom,” he rasped, and Felicity pulled back, licking her lips. Oliver’s eyes zeroed in, and she did it again; she shivered with need when his eyes darkened further.

“No condom,” she said, and that made him pause. “I found a way to get my pills.”

“No condom?” he whispered, the hope so evident in his voice she would have chuckled had he not been standing naked in front of her, his cock gleaming in the candlelight from her.

“No condom,” she confirmed and a smile danced over his lips.

Oliver leaned down and picked her up, tossing her into the center of the bed. He climbed over her, and Felicity grinned up at him - a grin he happily returned - before his lips found hers again.

Felicity moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her. He settled over her, his cock sliding through her wet heat and he made a sound very close to a whimper.

The sudden new intimacy wasn’t lost on either of them - there was something new, something surprisingly loving about the lack of all barriers between them now.

“Felicity,” Oliver whispered, pulling his hips back, the move so practiced over the last several weeks that the head of his cock slipped right against her entrance. Felicity arched her chest into him, pulling him closer to her and he thrust home. “Oooh god.”

Felicity cried out as he filled her, the sensations new all over again. They hadn’t used a condom in Nanda Parbat, but that had been about confirming their right to live, their right to love in the face of evil… this was different. This was…

Just them.

Oliver let out a choked noise, one hand gripping her hip painfully as the other hand holding him up slipped into her hair, making a tight fist, holding onto her. He pulled out, thrusting back in to the hilt, filling her completely, rendering her silent as he did it again, and again.

Her pleasure was swift, streaking through her with a new urgency as he thrust, her hips rising to meet him. He buried his face in her neck, his breathing heavy, the harsh inhale and exhale making goosebumps erupt across her skin.

“Felicity,” he mumbled against her, over and over, “Felicity.”

“Yes,” she answered, cradling him to her, his hips starting to move faster. “Yes, Oliver, yes… yes…”

And then he suddenly stopped.

Felicity’s breath stuttered as he froze over her.

She waited, the air filled with nothing but their pants, before she dragged her nails across his scalp, cupping the back of his neck. “Oliver?”

He pulled back, his eyes finding hers.

He didn’t speak as he slowly settled harder against her, his pelvis pushing against hers, making her bite her lip. His hand pulled her leg up higher, and he slid in even deeper.

“Ooooh,” she whimpered, unable to keep her eyes off him, and he did the same, his eyes never leaving hers.

The intimate bubble that was just theirs grew around them. His hand slowly moved up her side, the caress so loving she couldn’t do anything but _feel him_. Felicity’s fingers grazed his jaw, his mouth hovering over hers, as he stroked all the way up to her head, his fingers drifting over her hair, and then back down. His fingers slid down her face, over her jaw and shoulder and down her side, all the way to her hip. She wrapped her leg around him, holding him securely against her, his hand slipping underneath her hip…

_Cherished._

She felt cherished.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Felicity stared at up him, unable to do anything else, drinking him in in amazement.

Because he did love.

_He loved her._

“I love you,” she replied softly, and he grinned, pulling his hips back and thrusting into her gently.

So gently…

He kept his hand moving, kept caressing her as he made love to her, neither looking away, opening up everything to each other. His thrusts were slow and measured, but so much more powerful, and Felicity dug one hand into his shoulder, the other cupping his jaw, their lips grazing each other, their eyes never breaking contact as he pushed the deep pleasure slowly growing inside her higher.

Their breath intermingled, their broken gasps filling the room. He angled his hips just enough, brushing against her clit and she jerked, crying out, and he did it again, and again.

“Oliver,” she whimpered, holding onto him tighter. “Oliver… oh god…”

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “I love you so much, I love you…”

“Yes, yes, yes…” He kept thrusting at that angle, the pleasure turning into a sharp burst that quickly threatened to explode within her. “Oliver, Oliver… Oliver!”

She came with a sharp yell, and Oliver groaned as her walls clamped down around him… but he didn’t move any faster. His hips maintained the same soft motion, still slow, as she came undone underneath him.

Felicity wrapped her arms around him, holding him closer, her limbs shaking, her core radiating with a different kind of need as he still moved.

She needed _him_ , she needed him to fill her… to finish her.

“Come inside me, Oliver,” she said, and he gasped. “Come inside me.”

“Yes…”

“I love you, I love you…”

“Oh god, Felicity!”

Oliver came with a strangled shout, his back bowing.

His hips pressed painfully against her as he filled her with his seed, the sensation setting off a tiny after-tremor that had her walls clenching around him again, pulling him in deeper and deeper, making him whimper her name over and over before he collapsed on top of her.

Oliver’s bulk was way bulky, but she wasn’t about to complain. He sighed, perfectly content, and she cradled him closer as she nuzzled him, kissing his ear, his neck, his temple, her fingers dragging over his back, making him shiver.

“Happy birthday, Oliver,” she whispered, and she felt him smile before he dropped a wet, loving kiss on her neck.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/119118262499/prompt-in-the-spirit-of-olivers-30-birthday)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse. Thank you for reading!


	7. In The Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: "Wow. That's incredible."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a lighter continuation of my first birthday ficlet, [New Memories](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3970273/chapters/8906878).

Felicity looked back from where she’d landed on the other side of the fence, where Oliver stood staring at her in amazement. She’d climbed up quickly when they’d realized the pool was gated off - locked and everything - flipping herself over in a move that had taken her way too long to learn.

It was amazing that it was as graceful as it was since the world was more than a little fuzzy after she and Oliver had proceeded to plow through the two bottles of champagne, which had started to taste better and better as they got closer to the bottom. 

And now they were sneaking into the on-site pool, which had officially closed two hours ago.

“Impressed?” Felicity asked Oliver where he was grinning at her like a fool, obviously feeling the fuzzy effects just as much as she was.

“Very,” Oliver said, and he scaled the chain link fence in the blink of an eye, putting hers to shame, landing next to her. “Where in the world would you have ever had to use that skill?”

“I had a very lucrative side business as a car thief,” Felicity deadpanned, keeping her voice low as she led the way towards the pool. It was nearly pitch black dark, the only illumination coming from the tiny lights lining the inside of the pool walls and the moon, which was hiding behind a group of clouds.

She heard Oliver’s huff of laughter behind her as she slid her shirt off - well, Oliver’s shirt really, it’d been doubling as her swimsuit cover up since their first hotel - and she turned to watch Oliver tugging his shirt off.

Felicity sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, unable to pull her eyes away from his unlaced trunks that hung very, very low. She felt a tug of desire in the pit of her stomach, and she clenched her thighs, remembering how he’d felt inside her a few minutes ago…

They’d eaten their cold lasagna, Oliver sharing some birthday stories with her before forcing her to do the same, until there was nothing left but cheap champagne that they shared sitting on the floor, their backs against the foot of the bed as they talked.

Hours passed as they told each other stories, shared parts of themselves that hadn’t seen the light of day in years, their legs and arms slowly becoming tangled until he was practically on top of her.

It had led to some petting, to some kisses…

And then those few kisses had quickly morphed into hands _everywhere_ and Oliver had somehow twisted her so she was on her back, his mouth between her legs, licking and sucking, making her come quick and hard, before prolonging her next one until she was begging him to stop. Then he’d made love to her again.

They’d been laying in a sweaty heap on the floor when she’d asked if he wanted to go swimming.

_“Isn’t the pool closed?”_

_“You’re not gonna let a little ol’ closed sign stop you, are you?”_

“You’re staring.”

“Yes,” Felicity said, nodding, the alcohol making her words flow. “You are a fine specimen, Oliver Queen, you should always be stared at.”

He smiled, pinching his lips as he made his way over to her. A nest of butterflies took up residence in her stomach, and she shifted, feeling like he was doing more to her than looking as he stalked towards her.

“You, Miss Smoak,” he said quietly, and the moon finally showed its face, casting them in a brilliant white light. It caught all his scars, making them shimmer, making his tattoos look darker. He slipped his finger underneath the thin strap of her bathing suit. “Are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

It should have been silly, lame, cheesy… but it wasn’t. Warmth and pride filled her up, practically radiating off of her as he stared at her like she really was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and she blushed. His eyes danced across her face, like he was memorizing her, as his finger worked it’s up down, slipping inside the flimsy cup, grazing the soft curve of her breast.

His fingernail brushed over her hardening nipple and she held her breath as he did it again, his eyes dropping down to watch. 

So they were definitely drunk, because Oliver was touching her in public and she was doing everything but being embarrassed. It was maybe even sort of turning her on.

Like he could read her thoughts, Oliver smiled knowingly, his eyes finding hers again as he flicked her nipple.

She gasped and he grinned, his eyes darkening even further.

“You’re lucky it’s so late,” he whispered and his words made her pause.

“Why?”

Oliver leaned in, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her flush against him. The night was balmy, perfect for late-night swimming, but he was hotter; he was always hotter, and she shivered at the stark contrast of his body heat against the suddenly chillier night.

He buried his face in her neck, rubbing his stubble along the sensitive column.

“Because I’d be throwing you in the pool right about now.”

“Oooh,” Felicity replied, shaking her head, her eyes slipping shut as he started kissing and sucking; he was going to leave a hicky, the jerk. She patted his shoulder. “I’d have to kill you if you did that, you know.”

“We wouldn’t want that.”

“It would be bad. I can see the news story now: only on the road for a few weeks, woman loses her cool when boyfriend throws her into pool.”

Oliver stiffened, pulling back. “Boyfriend?”

The blush that hit Felicity’s face this time felt about a thousand times hotter than before and she blinked. “Well, I mean… I guess that’s what they’d say, since we’re sharing a room, and we’re obviously not married; I mean, it’s not like there was a news bulletin in Nanda Par-”

Oliver’s lips covered hers, cutting her off.

“I like boyfriend,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “I like girlfriend.”

Felicity smiled, a stupid face-consuming smile that he returned.

“I think we drank too much,” Felicity said, giggling, because they were both acting a couple dozen leagues past silly.

Oliver hummed, pulling her in tighter and she felt his hardening erection pressing into her lower stomach. His hands slid down her back, gripping her ass and he held her still as he rubbed against her.

“Oliver,” Felicity sighed, standing on her toes, lifting one leg to hike around him. He lifted her slightly, letting the hard bulge press right against her hot center, and she gasped. “We came here to swim.”

“Right. Swim.”

“And if don’t swim, we won’t… swim.”

Oliver hummed again, and neither of them stopped. Felicity wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling herself up, anchoring herself against him as they both rotated her hips against him. She felt him swelling, growing harder against her sensitive and over-used flesh and she whimpered, her need growing. 

She wasn’t sure how it was possible, considering she’d just come three times within the last hour, but her sex clenched with need, and she felt her suit growing wet, a mixture of both of them from their afternoon activities.

“Pool,” Oliver said and Felicity mindlessly moaned… until he leaned down and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his hips and he quickly made his way to the steps leading into the pool.

Felicity let out a short cry at the shock of cold water, the smell of chlorine flooding her senses, but her skin quickly adapted as Oliver waded in, carrying her with him.

It felt _amazing_ , and she unwrapped her legs, sighing her approval.

“This feels so good,” she said, letting her head fall back, Oliver’s hands still on her waist as she wet her hair, arching her back. Oliver made a tiny sound, his grip tightening, and she opened her eyes to find his on her chest where her hardened nipples were very evident through her bikini top.

Felicity paused, feeling his eyes like they were a caress, and her nipples hardened further. Oliver’s eyes slowly trekked back to her face and the need that had swirled inside her a spare second ago came roaring back, and she came up, using the water to buoy her as she lifted her legs and wrapped them around him again.

Oliver caught her easily, and spun, pushing her up against the pool wall, his lips finding on hers in an ardent kiss. She moaned, and he responded by holding her against the wall, pressing his hips up so she felt every inch of him, as his arms came out of the water, holding onto the ledge of the pool for leverage.

He ground against her, and Felicity gasped, her head falling back. She rotated her hips against him, and he hissed.

“Oliver?”

“Hmm?” he asked distractedly, his hooded eyes glued to her swollen lips.

“Have you ever had sex in a pool?”

His eyes slid up to hers, a mixture of surprise and desire staring back. “Once. But it didn’t go very well.”

Felicity stopped, and she tightened her legs around him, stilling his hips. The sudden lack of movement had the water lapping up against them in tiny waves, splashes of water hitting their face.

“Why didn’t it go very well?”

“It wasn’t…” One of his hands slipped under the water again, and he pressed it between them, his fingers wiggling into her bathing suit, making her gasp his name. He groaned when he felt her puffy lips, slick with her desire. “God, you’re so wet, Felicity.”

“We’re in water, Oliver,” she said cheekily, and he huffed a laugh.

“Thank you for that,” he replied and she grinned. “No, Felicity… you are _wet_. Water isn’t exactly a lubricant, you have to be very… very…”

Oliver pressed two fingers inside her and she gave him a surprised, “Oh.”

“Wet,” he finished, his fingers stroking in and out. “And you are…”

“Wet,” she supplied, and he nodded, staring at her like he was starving. “Wanna try?”

“Yes,” he said instantly, and his fingers were already shoving down her bikini bottoms. She helped, pushing down the other side, releasing him long enough to kick them off. The rush of water felt cool against her sensitive sex, and she opened her legs, the water rushing in against her.

“Oh, that’s different,” she said as he pushed his trunks down. He lifted her up against the wall again, and she held onto his shoulders as he reached between them, guiding himself up against her entrance.

The sensations were totally different as he stroked against her, and she stared at him blindly as his mouth opened in a pant.

The water added a whole new level of pressure down there, pulsing against her in a new and very, very nice way. Oliver slid the head of his cock over her clit, making her walls clench with anticipation, before sliding it down to her entrance where he slowly, _slowly_ , pressed into her. He kept a firm grip on himself, holding onto the wall behind her, Felicity hanging onto him as he worked himself inside her, taking extra care to make sure she was ready for him.

And she was. She was very, very ready for him.

“Oliver, please…”

Oliver thrust into her, pushing her up against the wall as a rush of water assaulted every inch of her flesh.

“Oh god,” Felicity gasped, her head falling back and Oliver wrapped himself around her, pulling out and thrusting in again.

Felicity felt like every inch of her was being assaulted with new feelings - the rough pool wall scraping her back, Oliver’s liquid body pressed against her, the water crashing between their chests, his hot mouth finding her ear, sucking her earlobe between his teeth, and when he pulled out, thrusting back in…

“Oh my god,” Felicity said, closing her eyes, concentrating on the rapid pleasure building deep inside her core, the underwater suction from his thrusts teasing her clit in ways she’d never felt before as Oliver filled her over and over, a rush of her arousal coating him. “Oh my god.”

“We’re gonna get caught if you get much louder,” Oliver said, humor coloring his words, but Felicity barely heard him.

“I don’t care,” she whispered absently. “Just don’t stop… don’t stop.”

“You like it?” Oliver asked and she nodded her head frantically. “Talk to me, Felicity, tell me what you like.”

A needy flush rushed across her chest and neck, making her feel too hot at his words.

“You, inside me,” she responded. He made a noise, urging her on. “And the water, it… it’s touching me, like…”

“Touching you where?” Oliver asked, his voice becoming strained, his hips starting to move faster. “Where’s it touching you?”

“My clit,” Felicity said softly, and Oliver moaned her name. “It feels… so good, so… good…”

Oliver suddenly shifted, stepping over a few paces, his hand dropping to feel for something that he quickly found and then he pushed her back against the wall, his hands reaching behind her to spread her ass cheeks.

A jet of water assaulted her and Felicity yelped.

Oliver resumed his thrusts, punishing even under the water, and she felt her crisis coming on too quickly. It built rapidly, the pressure of him filling her, spreading her, the water hitting her clit in gentle waves and the water jet hitting her sensitive hole from behind…

“Oliver, it’s too much, too much, I can’t… Oliver… Ah ah ahhh!”

Felicity came hard, her head shooting back as her release ripped through her. Oliver’s thrusts didn’t slow as he held onto her tightly, chasing his own release. It didn’t take long before he was shouting into her ear, his back bowing as he shoved her against the wall, burying his face in her neck.

“Oliver,” Felicity whimpered, pushing on his shoulders. “Too much, too much.”

“Oh,” he whispered, the word coming out slightly slurred and he shifted, moving her off the jet. She sighed in relief, her inner walls pulsing around him, and he let out a shuddering breath. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m very okay,” she replied. “So okay.”

His hand came up to the back of her head, and she winced. “You hit your head.”

“I didn’t even feel it,” she admitted and he laughed, making his softening cock inside her jostle, and she moaned in discomfort as he rubbed against her now thoroughly abused flesh.

“Hey!” A sharp flash of light suddenly lit them up, and Felicity choked on her words as Oliver cursed. “You’re not supposed to be in here!”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/119160570934/wow-thats-incredible)
> 
>  
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse. Thank you for reading!


	8. Fritos vs. Cheetos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: Prompt: Oliver picks up the wrong chips/candy at a gas station along the way. Pouty Felicity and cute bickering ensues. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I switched the pouting around, and inserted some cute crankiness instead. :D

Felicity had only closed her eyes for a minute.

One second she was resting them and then the next she opened them to a dark horizon, the only light coming from the Porsche’s headlights. She frowned, blinking, sleep still dragging her eyelids down for a quick second as she tried to make sense of the sudden shift from daylight to nighttime.

“Hey,” Oliver said softly. He reached over, massaging her bare thigh. “You’re awake.”

“Mm,” Felicity hummed, stretching her back and yawning before covering his hand, lacing her fingers through his, pushing them between her legs as she stretched her arms and legs, making her back crack. “What happened to the sun?”

“It disappeared a while ago,” Oliver said, a grin evident in his voice, his eyes going back to the road. “You were out.”

“I was just resting my eyes,” Felicity replied sleepily, her eyes closing again, and Oliver chuckled, squeezing her hand in his. They both felt the engine revving, and Oliver pulled her hand with his, shifting gears.

Felicity readjusting, her hand hanging limply from his as she turned to face him, surreptitiously checking her face for drool.

“You were about to drown in your drool at the gas station,” Oliver said and Felicity’s eyes snapped open. She caught him turning back to the road where’d he been watching her, a stupid grin on his face. “I had to get a drop cloth.”

“Aren’t you a funny guy,” Felicity said, her voice still rough and he laughed, lifting their hands to press a kiss to the back of hers.

“You’re beautiful, drool and all,” he said and Felicity sighed, too out of it to do anything but give him what she was sure was a sappy smile. She lifted her leg to curl underneath her when her knee hit a plastic bag at her feet.

She leaned forward, grabbing it. “Goodies?”

“Goodies.”

“Mmm, goodies.” Felicity opened the bag one-handed, her other still linked to Oliver, and she frowned when she saw what was in it. “Oliver, what is this?”

“Fritos.”

“Why did you get Fritos?”

Oliver slid her a look. “You told me to.”

“No, I didn’t. I said Cheetos.”

“You did not. I specifically heard a ‘ffff’ sound.”

“Listen here, Mr. Ears like a… thing that hears really well,” Felicity started, her brain still fuzzy. Oliver smirked, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “I said Cheetos.”

“You said Fritos, which is why I got Fritos. And look,” Oliver said, using their connected hands to dig into the bag. “I got bean dip.”

“So what you’re saying is you got yourself a snack.”

“No, I got _you_ a snack. You said Fritos, Felicity, I know what I heard.”

“I think you’re losing your edge,” Felicity replied, pulling the chips and dip out, tucking the plastic bag under her leg. “All this time away from danger-danger has softened you, buddy.”

Neither of them commented on the fact that their hands stayed tangled, both of them using their hands as much as they could without losing that connection. Felicity struggled a bit with the foil on the bean drip, her small hand hindered by his larger one, but she finally got it open to the sound of her stomach growling.

“Can I have one?” Oliver asked.

Felicity scoffed, ripping open the chips. “Did you get me Cheetos?”

Oliver shook his head, unable to keep the grin off his face. “You are so cute when you just wake up.”

Felicity glared at him. “Now you definitely don’t get any.”

“Felicity,” he said, giving her a pathetic look. “I’m hungry.”

“You should have thought of that before not getting my Cheetos.” She popped a chip in her mouth, quickly grabbing another. “Did you get any water?”

“Felicity…”

“It’s not gonna work.” Felicity looked around. “Where are those water bottles?”

“Felicity…”

“Oliver, I said-” And then she looked at him. And he was pouting. She pinched her lips to keep from smiling. “Pouting won’t work.”

He just stared at her, his lip sticking out, his eyes woeful, and Felicity finally couldn’t hold back her grin anymore. He grinned, turning back to the road, shifting gears before letting Felicity use their combined hands to hold the dip as she grabbed a chip piled high with dip.

“Open,” she said and Oliver did just that.

She purposefully missed, smearing bean dip all over his cheek.

“Felicity!”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/119298732489/prompt-oliver-picks-up-the-wrong-chips-candy-at-a)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse. Thank you for reading!


	9. Just Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: Prompt: olicity having hot sex while in a dive bar toilets or an alleyway outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt ran away from me… here, have some jealous!Oliver…

The air was crisp with fall, the threat of cooler weather starting to settle on the world. The sun was setting, highlighting the falling leaves that were still too fresh to crunch when he stepped on them as he slowly made his way back to the Lit Lounge where Felicity waited for him.

Oliver folded the printout the mechanic had given him about what “needed” to be fixed on the Porsche. A loud squeal had started coming from the engine when it started in the morning, loud enough to make him cringe, and the steering felt like it was filled with molasses until the car warmed up.

They’d driven the Porsche into the ground over the last five months. He knew it was in need of some serious TLC; they were lucky to have found a guy who seemed confident enough in his ability to fix a drive belt on the Porsche at all, but Oliver didn’t want to push his luck by giving him the go-ahead to tear into the engine.

Or maybe he should.

It would delay having to go back to Starling City.

It had been his intention all along to return to Starling City a long, long way down the road… maybe not ever, depending on what they found on the road. At first all he’d wanted to do was move, and keep moving, with Felicity at his side, but then he’d felt the weirdest itch:

He wanted to _settle_ somewhere; not in Starling though, somewhere new, and he wanted to do it with Felicity.

He wanted to build a home, discover who he was away from Ollie Queen and away from the Arrow. Discover what kind of person he was at night without those personas, what kind of work he would fall into, what kind of house they could find, what kind of world Felicity envisioned, if they’d get a dog, or if Oliver could build tire swing… or how her body would change when she got pregnant…

He wanted to be Oliver Queen.

But then the lawyers had found them.

Apparently Palmer had had Felicity sign an ownership transfer agreement, one she was completely unaware of signing - “Am I really the person they want heading up that company? I don’t even look at what I sign!” - and the CEO and majority-holding board member was required back in Starling City.

Oliver yanked open the door to the bar a little bit too hard, and was immediately assaulted with the distinct moldy smell of a building that was too old and wood that had had one too many beers spilled on it. The bar could have easily moonlighted as a strip club once upon a time - mirrors lined most of the walls, and holes where poles used to be hooked were still evident in the ceiling. 

Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Saturday Night Special” sounded from the speakers, the sound of pool balls and soft chatter filling the rest of the space. Oliver passed a grizzly old man who reeked of smoke and days spent drinking only gin was trying to shove a wrinkled dollar into the slot of the bar-top karaoke machine.

“Carol, this thing don’t work for shit,” the man said, his voice gruff but loud enough to carry over to the woman behind the bar, and Oliver caught Carol’s, “Complain to yourself, Joe, you bought it.”

Oliver smirked. Felicity had already gotten their story a few hours ago. Stuck waiting for the Porsche in the only place that was open this late on a Sunday in rural Montana, the late crowd yet to arrive, Felicity had spun small talk into life stories - they were married, Carol and Joe, and they had owned the Lit Lounge for over twenty years, although Joe spent most of his time drinking the alcohol than anything, much to Carol’s annoyance.

_“At least it keeps the old fool out of my hair…”_

_“Ha, like you have any hair left.”_

_“Joe, if you keep runnin’ your mouth like that, I’m gonna shove it in the sink over here.”_

Oliver scanned the crowd - and it had become a crowd, the Lounge was busy, although considering they were one of the few bars in this town, it made sense. 

He finally spotted Felicity sitting at the far end of the bar, their two tumblers of whiskey still sitting in front of her… 

And two guys standing by her bar stool.

Standing way too close to her bar stool.

Oliver paused. A quick flare of annoyance and what he had come to discover was a wicked jealousy streak lit up his chest. 

It’d first come up when a barhop had gotten a little too close to her during their first few weeks on their road trip; Oliver had wrapped his arm around her waist, yanking her into his side.

_“You went all caveman on that poor kid, Oliver.”_

_“I did not go all caveman,” Oliver replied, the word ‘caveman’ coming out strangled. “His eyes were wandering a little too much for my comfort.”_

_Felicity paused, studying him, and he raised an eyebrow._

_“Either you are a heck of a lot more territorial than I thought, or… you were jealous,” she said, amusement coloring her tone and Oliver rolled his eyes, which made her grin. “Do I have a jealous boyfriend?”_

_“I was not jealous, Felicity,” Oliver said. He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her between his legs, his hands finding her hips. He pushed them up her sides and back down as her fingers carded through his hair, which was getting long._

_Felicity leaned down and kissed him softly. He sighed, pulling her in closer, his hands slipping over her ass in the very short skirt that had been fun while driving with the top down, but was suddenly not that fun with prepubescent boys hanging around._

_When he slipped his hands up underneath it to her bare ass, Felicity pulled back, and when he squeezed her cheeks, she gave him a sharp gasp._

_He stared up at her with hooded eyes as she said, “Those hand prints you’re trying to leave back there sing a different tune, Oliver.” Her eyes darkened as he kneaded her, pulling her in closer to him, her breathing growing heavier with desire. “All he did was take one step towards me and you practically pulled me off my feet.”_

_Oliver’s fingers slipped down her sensitive crack, making her breath hitched. He dipped his fingers in the growing heat between her thighs._

_“Fine,” Oliver grunted, cupping her face with his free hand as his other danced across her puffy lips, spreading her wetness over her thighs. Her mouth opened in a pant, her eyes slipping shut, and Oliver picked her up, his arm sliding under her firm ass, his other wrapping around her chest in what he would later realize was a really ridiculous act of dominance. He took a few steps forward and deposited her on the dresser, pushing himself between her legs. “I didn’t like it.”_

_“I think that’s an understatement,” Felicity whispered with a grin on her lips before Oliver kissed it away._

Felicity looked less than amused as they talked to her, standing closer than they had any business to. She responded because she was too nice - something he’d spent a great deal of time harping on because it managed to get them in trouble more times than not - but she wasn’t looking straight at them. She played with her glass of Maker’s - something she’d acquired a taste for over the last few months during their time together - only responding when she needed to.

She didn’t look uncomfortable so much as she looked annoyed, and they weren’t getting the message. Oliver knew she was more than capable of handling them if they pushed too hard; they weren’t, and she was being polite as a result.

Oliver still had aggravation flowing through his veins from the mechanic trying to sweet talk him into a transmission tune-up and insisting he should get all his belts replaced - they’d already checked when he’d pulled over earlier that morning, and they were fine - as well as the leftover annoyance that Palmer had basically tricked Felicity into owning his company, forcing them to head back to Starling under less than ideal conditions. So the sight of them standing too close to her, when she was obviously not interested…

Oliver had never been a jealous guy. He might not have enjoyed when someone looked at his girlfriend, maybe even said something every once in a while, but he’d never felt… _this_ , whatever it was that Felicity incited in him…

This foolish need to punch these guys in the throat.

Felicity looked up just then, as if she sense his presence, and her eyes widened when she saw him. He must not have looked very happy. She said something that looked like, ‘My boyfriend just walked in, guys. It was nice talking to you,’ and they both looked over their shoulder as he made his way over.

“Oh right,” one of them said, trying to nonchalantly size Oliver up, while his buddy got the message loud and clear. The nonchalant one looked back at Felicity and said, “I guess we’ll talk later.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow at that, and the guy gave him a smile, before they both walked back to their table. 

“I’m taking it it was bad news,” Felicity said as Oliver sat down, his eyes following the two before he looked at her, his brow furrowing. Bad news? She wrapped her hands around his arm. “The car. The look on your face is either ‘the car is falling apart’ or ‘the mechanic is trying to rob me’.”

“Neither,” Oliver replied. “Although he tried.”

“Of course he tried. When you expect mechanics to be nice and fair because you’re in a nice and fair town, they turn out to be swindlers. We should have expected him to rob us, then he would have been nice.”

For the first time since they’d pulled into the mechanic shop, Oliver smiled, unable to hold it back as she talked.

“There’s something to this, I’m sure of it. Something fringe science-y. I mean, I’m a logical girl, you know this, I know this, but every time I think I’m going to talk to a nice mechanic? They turn out to be jerks and try to replace my entire fuel system.”

“Mm. He insisted we needed to get all the belts fixed,” Oliver said, taking a sip of his scotch, his eyes involuntarily sliding to the two guys. They were back to talking, but Oliver didn’t miss the one looking out the corner of his eye.

“We checked them this morning, they’re fine.” Felicity sighed. “So how long are we talking here?”

“Another forty-five minutes.”

Felicity groaned. “At this rate we’re never gonna make it to Washington.” She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back, exposing her long, slender neck.

Oliver’s eyes followed it down. She wore a t-shirt that was silky and low-cut, showing a gentle curve of cleavage underneath a black leather jacket she’d found in Virginia, all on top of a denim skirt that he knew had slits up both sides. And in the right light, he was pretty sure her shirt was see-through.

At that thought, Oliver’s mood darkened further and he glanced back at the two men.

“Oliver,” Felicity said, turning to face him. She wrapped her legs around his loosely, one hand tugging on his t-shirt while the other grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. “If your look was an arrow, those two would be dead fifty times over.”

“Not enough arrows,” Oliver said.

Felicity gave him a look. “What’s wrong? Is this about the whole ‘Ray-hoisted-his-company-on-me-and-now-we-have-to-go-back-and-deal-with-it’ thing?”

Oliver opened his mouth to say, ‘No, I’m fine,’ but he wasn’t fine.

“I’m…” Oliver closed his eyes. “I’m not ready. I wanted to go back because we wanted to go back,” he said softly, finally putting a voice to the words that had been floating around in his head since the lawyers had appeared. Oliver found her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “I wasn’t done with just… us, yet.”

Felicity smiled. “We’re not done, you know.”

“You know what I mean.” Oliver stared at the clasped hands. With a tight smile, he lifted their hands and kissed her fingers. “I wanted it to be just us still.”

“I know,” Felicity said. She cupped his cheek before running her hand up and over his scalp, pressing her nails in just how he liked it. He sighed, closing his eyes, letting his shoulders drop for a second as he leaned into her. “There’ll still be time for that.”

His gave her a skeptical look and she raised her eyebrows in challenge. “We’ll make time, Oliver. That’s a new rule. We come first. Unless the city is literally burning. But only then.” Oliver’s next smile was less tight and she returned it. “That’s better. There’s my Oliver, hidden underneath all that macho crap.”

“Macho?” Oliver asked, and she grabbed her glass, taking a tiny sip, giving him enough to time to look around the bar again, his eyes immediately zeroing in on the guy… who was looking right back at him, almost in challenge. Oliver’s eyes narrowed, a dark burn coming to life in the pit of his stomach.

“Yes, macho,” Felicity said in exasperation. “Look at you, you’re being ridiculous.”

“He won’t stop staring at you,” Oliver replied, turning back to her. He clenched his jaw, and he was pretty sure she could hear his teeth grinding.

“You’re wound up a little too tightly, I think.”

“You think?” Oliver replied sarcastically before immediately biting his tongue. He closed his eyes and shook his head, dropping her hand to rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m tired.”

Felicity didn’t reply, and her silence had Oliver opening his eyes, looking at her to see if that silence meant he was about to get his head taken off. Instead, she was staring at him in contemplation, gnawing on her bottom lip.

“Go wash your hands,” she said abruptly and Oliver’s brow furrowed.

“What?”

“You smell like engine oil,” she replied. “Go wash your hands.”

Oliver frowned. He hadn’t even touched the Porsche since that morning, and he’d definitely washed his hands after that because they’d gotten breakfast afterwards.

He opened his mouth to ask again what the hell she was asking when she held her hand up, and said, “Nope. Hands. Wash ‘em.”

When he didn’t move, she cocked her head, giving him The Look, and he acquiesced. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, sliding off the stool, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. He caught the guy out the corner of his eye and without even thinking, he pressed his finger to her chin, tilting her head up, his lips pressing to hers in a searing kiss. When she responded, letting out a tiny whimper, he felt the same dark burn in the pit of his stomach roaring back to life.

“I’ll be fine,” she said when he pulled back and he gave her a short nod before heading to the bathroom.

Oliver barely glanced at himself in the mirror, immediately turning the water on. He washed his hands, soaping them generously, scrubbing a little too hard. Felicity was right. He was wound too tightly…

He needed to punch something.

He felt like he had whiplash - he’d gone from being so incredibly relaxed, thinking about how much of a gift that the trip was and what it was giving him, to slowly sinking into a pit of frustration.

His entire tenure since he’d returned from the island to Starling had been dictated by events out of his control, and he’d always felt like he was one step behind. And now, when that wasn’t supposed to be happening, when he was supposed to be in control of things for once, he felt that same thread starting to unravel…

He didn’t like it.

Oliver rinsed his raw hands, drying them off on his pants when he saw the empty paper towel roll on the counter. He just needed to get the car fixed, get them to a motel. He needed a bed, he needed to come to terms with the fact that he had somehow come to relatively peaceful terms with Ray Palmer and now he wanted to punch him all over again… and he needed his girlfriend.

Oliver opened the bathroom door and a blonde blur pushed him back in.

“Felicity, what are you-”

Her lips were on his as she pushed him back until he ran into the sink, her hands slipping under his jacket where she dug her nails into his muscle.

Despite himself, despite the fact that they were in a dive bar that reeked of fried food, old sweat and beer, despite the fact that they were in the men’s bathroom that probably hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned since the early nineties, Oliver responded.

He moaned, his hands slipping up into her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss. She made a little noise that had his body hardening instantly, and she rubbed herself against him, her hands dropping down to his belt loops. She hooked her fingers through them, yanking his hips against hers. He growled against her lips, holding her tighter, the kiss becoming more demanding, more passionate…

Felicity whimpered, pulling on him harder, and Oliver leaned down, hooking a hand under her knee and lifting her leg up, his other hand slipping down her back to press her into his hard bulge. She choked out his name, her head falling back, her eyes slipping shut as they moved against each other.

He was tired, and he was frustrated, and he felt like the things he wanted were slowly slipping out of his grasp, but she _wasn’t_ … _she wasn’t_. She was here, with him, forever, and that feeling overtook him.

Her slim neck exposed, Oliver gripped her ass tightly, pushing her hips into his, his lips finding her rapid pulse point. He groaned when he hips started rotating, pressing her wet heat against him, her fingers gripping his hair as she hung onto him.

They held onto each other, moving, fingers grasping, clawing, their movements becoming more urgent… 

And then just as quickly as the passion had taken over, it suddenly died as he realized where they were, and what they were doing.

Oliver pulled back, gasping for air, and she gave him a confused look. “What?”

“Not here,” he said, trying to catch his breath. He tried to keep his eyes off her swollen mouth, her lips already well-used, his stubble already having left marks on her delicate skin. He wanted to ignore the possessive flare that sparked in his chest, adding to the dark burn from out in the bar… but then she licked her lips, looking up at him from under her eyelashes.

“Oliver, I need you,” she said baldly. He inhaled quickly. She reached out, her finger finding his jaw. She traced her way up to his mouth before dragging it down so it hooked on his bottom lip, making her way down his chin, his throat, his chest… all the way down to his jeans. “ _Now_.”

“Here?”

“Here.”

She unbuttoned his jeans, one hand slipping down to cup him through the denim. Her firm fingers tightened around his already rock-hard cock, and he groaned her name, letting his head fall back. She stood up on her toes to reach his neck, her palm rubbing tiny circles against him, sending sensation sparking through his body that she only added to when she kissed his throat, her tongue darting out to taste him.

“Seeing how you got with those guys out there,” she said, and Oliver’s teeth clenched at the mention of them, that dark burn consuming his chest, his hands itching to grab her. “You didn’t like them talking to me, did you?”

“I didn’t like them being practically on top of you,” Oliver replied darkly, and she smiled against his skin.

“What would you have done if they’d… touched my arm? My hand?” she asked, her lips moving across his skin, leaving a burning trail that only added to the fire growing in him. “My leg or…”

With a frustrated snap of his jaw, Oliver grabbed her, his lips crashing against hers. He spun them, lifting her easily onto the sink, his hands shoving her skirt up. She let out a yelp when the cool counter touched her hot skin and he gripped her hips, sliding her until she was on the very edge, her legs spread open for him, wrapping around his hips. He pressed the hard seam hiding his cock against her sex, her heat enveloping him.

Felicity held onto him, her face buried in his shoulder to muffle her soft moans as he rubbed against her.

She felt amazing, so amazing, wrapped around him, all of her open to him, ready for him, needing him as badly as he needed her…

Especially right now. God, he _needed_ her. He needed to have her, claim her, mark her… that she wanted it just as badly had his need ratcheting higher and higher.

“The… door,” she whispered, and Oliver grunted. “The door, Oliver, the door is still open.”

Oliver froze for a split second, her words trying to penetrate through the pleasure haze in his head before they registered. And then he pulled away, spinning to the door. There was no lock on it; it was as old as the building itself, it looked like someone had broken it long ago. Instead there was a wedge laying on the floor, and Oliver leaned down,shoving it under the door.

When Oliver turned back to her, he paused.

She was a vision.

Felicity leaned back on the counter, her hair messy from his hands, her glasses lower on her nose, her lips red and swollen, her skin marked from his beard; she already had a bruise forming on her neck from a moment ago, and her shirt was most definitely see-through. Her legs were spread, her skirt pushed up her hips, and the thin black lace panties she wore were already soaked.

“You are so beautiful,” he rasped and she blushed, giving him a beatific smile; it was enthralling, making her look both like the most innocent and pure creature as well as the most sinful, with her legs spread, her body promising pleasure and warmth and love, her eyes promising so much more…

Oliver stalked towards her, and she bit her lip, making his cock throb. He stared at her lips, his hand finding her center. Her panties were wet, so wet, and his fingers slid against them easily, sliding across her naked flesh. Felicity gasped, her back arching as his thumb circled her clit through the wet lace. Oliver moaned his approval, and her eyes flew down to where his hand rubbed her.

When her breath hitched at the sight, her legs spreading further, his control snapped.

Oliver was on his knee in the next second, his hands spreading her thighs, and he pressed his face into her wet panties, his tongue pressing up against her.

“Aaah,” she moaned, her eyes on him.

He looked up at her, pressing harder, opening his mouth to taste all over her… before he _sucked_. Felicity gasped, her hips jerking, and Oliver felt her entrance spasming, her body clenching with need. He did again, his eyes never leaving hers, and she dug her nails into the counter, lifting her hips to grind against his face, over and over. It was so hot, so erotically sensual and brazen, that Oliver’s hips thrust against the air, seeking friction, anything, as he ate her out.

She was mindless in her pursuit for her release, her cries growing louder and louder, almost too loud. The music volume was still pretty high, even in the bathroom… but so was she.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she whimpered. “Oh god, oh god, oh god… Oliver, pl… ease… Oliver…”

Oliver’s lips circled her clit through the lacy material, his tongue laving it through the lace, and then he sucked on her again, pulling it between his teeth, making her back arch, her mouth opening in a silent scream. Her hips moved faster, her feet anchored on his shoulders, her muscles taut with her impending orgasm…

Oliver pulled back and Felicity collapsed against the sink. He stood stiffly, grimacing at the tight hold the denim had on him. He gingerly unzipped his jeans, looking up to find Felicity watching him, her eyes on his cock as it sprang free.

“Come here,” she said, her voice heavy with unsatiated pleasure.

“Oh Felicity,” Oliver whispered, and he wrapped his hand around himself, squeezing hard to stem the quickly growing pleasure swirling inside him. She licked her lips, her eyes on his hand, and he nearly came right then.

Oliver slipped his fingers through her panties, slipping them down. She lifted her hips for him, and he slid them off, the material soaked with her desire, and stuffed them in his jacket pocket. And then he picked her up off the counter.

Felicity frowned, holding onto him as he deposited her on her feet. She wobbled for a moment, making noises as her sensitive flesh rubbed against itself while he whipped his jacket off, tossing it onto the counter.

She smiled when he picked her up, placing her on top of it.

“My gentleman,” she said and he smiled, stepping into her embrace, nudging her nose with his, urging her head back. He took her lips, kissing her gently… “Mmm… Oliver?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want you to be a gentleman,” she whispered against his lips, and he pulled back, looking down at her. “I want you to fuck me, on this counter, right now.” He stopped breathing, his body hardening even further. His eyes darted to her lips, watching them form the words, “I’m yours. Show me I’m yours.”

Oliver stared into her eyes, the same need beating inside his veins reflecting back at him.

“Yes,” she whispered, nodding. “Yes.”

Oliver kissed her, hard and painful… _rough_. Felicity moaned, giving it back just as much as he gave her, and Oliver slid her on his jacket to the edge of the sink again, his fingers digging into her hips. She reached between them, grasping him, and he hissed, pulling back, his forehead smacking into hers as they both looked down to watch her guide him into her.

She inhaled sharply when he pressed to her entrance and she reached up, grasping his face.

“Oliver…”

Everything he needed to hear was in the way she said his name…

_I need you… I love you… I want you… don’t stop… please… fuck me…_

Oliver thrust in to the hilt, and she gasped, her head flying back, her nails digging into his shoulders. Oliver wrapped her up in his arms, hiking her legs up as high as they would go around him as he bent her over the sink, his hips already pulling back and thrusting into her with punishing force.

“Oooh god,” she cried as she clung to him.

Oliver held her close, one arm around her back, the other holding her hips in place as he fucked her against the sink, the sound of their flesh slapping against each other in quick, taut thrusts echoing in the bathroom.

“Fuck… Felicity…” Oliver moaned, his voice loud, his hand sliding up into her hair where he made a tight fist.

“Harder,” she moaned breathlessly. “Harder, harder…”

Oliver growled and gritted his teeth, thrusting harder, holding onto her tighter, making her cry out.

His mind slipped back to when he’d walked in, to seeing those men standing so close to her, too close, to feeling the driving need to make sure they knew she was _his_ …

“Yes! Yes, yours… yours…” Felicity whimpered, her words rattling through his veins like fire licking at his blood. Her hand covered his mouth suddenly, muffling his moans as she buried her face in his neck, her sharp cries growing louder and louder, vibrating against his neck. “Oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop… Oliver… Oliver…!”

Her teeth suddenly sank into his neck. Oliver cried out as she came with a muffled shout, her walls rippling violently around him.

Oliver cried out again, the combined pleasure and pain radiating through him. He bent her over further, thrusting harder, harder…

His pleasure started to coil, to burn in the base of his spine, and he gripped her tighter, the sound of his hips colliding with hers echoing her whimpers of pleasure and his strangled cries…

“Harder, harder, harder… yes, yes… yes!”

Oliver came with a guttural shout, emptying into her, his hips thrusting without any rhythm, her walls rippling around him, sucking him in deeper…

For a long, long second, his hips kept moving, kept thrusting, milking the pleasure for all it was worth until all he could do was fall on top of her.

“Fuck,” he whispered against her fingers and she gave him a short giggle. “Oh, fuck… oh…”

She moaned his name, sounding incredibly satiated, stroking his scalp.

“Are you okay?” he asked and she moaned again, sounding very okay, making him chuckle.

His phone dinged, signaling a text message and he forced himself to straighten, his numb hand moving to his back pocket. He yanked his phone out and squinted at the screen, still struggling to breath normal.

“Porsche is ready.”

“Oh good,” Felicity sighed, closing her eyes. “That forty five minutes was nothing.”

Oliver snorted. He leaned down, giving her a soft, wet kiss, slipping out of her. Felicity moaned, giving him a little pout that was too cute to not kiss one more time before she slid off the counter. They held onto each other for a second, limbs a little more rubbery than they had been before.

Felicity glanced in the mirror. “Oh dear god.”

Oliver tucked himself back in and grabbed his jacket, grinning at her through the glass, feeling more relaxed than he had in days.

She looked thoroughly _ravished_.

Her hair was mussed, makeup smudged, lips very obviously kissed. Her clothes were disheveled, and she was covered in marks of all kinds. Her eyes ticked to his and he couldn’t even pretend to look apologetic.

“You don’t look much better,” she said with a smile and Oliver glanced at himself. He definitely looked happier than he had been all day. His own lips were just as swollen as hers. His neck was covered in two scratches and a deep red mark where she’d bitten him.

He smirked, zipping his jacket up as she quickly readjusted, finger brushing her hair and pulling it over her shoulders.

Oliver wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing his face into her neck and she sighed - _happily_ \- leaning back into him.

They stayed that way for a long minute… until he sighed.

“Get the car, get some food, find a room?”

“Yes. Good plan,” she agreed, patting his arms around her waist. “Very good plan.”

He laced his fingers through hers and kicked the wedge out of the way, opening the door for her.

Oliver couldn’t keep the self-satisfied smirk off his face as the guy from earlier watched them leave. He glanced at Felicity, at the very satisfied smile on her lips, and he felt a burst of male pride streak through him.

Oliver wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side as she said goodbye to Carol, and then they were off to the sound of Joe’s, “That’s the proper use of that bathroom.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun story, I knew a guy like Joe once. He was a sweetheart, but a complete perv. :P
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/119340288899/prompt-olicity-having-hot-sex-while-in-a-dive-bar)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse. Thank you for reading!


	10. Phalanges, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - onlyhere4olicity asked: I've had this prompt in my head for days. I need to get it out so it can stop haunting me; Felicity: "I like big words Oliver, phalanges, phanerogam, phallic, all good words"

The wind blew off the sea, pulling her hair back in a gentle gust, whipping it off her neck, pressing the light tank top she wore flush against her body. She stared at the ocean, watching the water pull out from the beach as a giant wave gained speed, heading towards the shore. The old wooden deck they stood on creaked in the wind, the wood buried in the water and beach groaning with the force of the wave that crashed against it.

The wave brought with it a refreshing gust of cool air that washed over them before the water started receding again, preparing for another wave.

The day was beautiful - the sun shining, the clouds sparse, the wind filled with the smell of ocean water and seaweed caking the dock. Seagulls danced in and out of view, diving into the waves, and the only other people visible were hundreds of yards away, at the next beach house.

This was definitely her favorite place they’d stayed so far. They’d been driving for months, stopping everywhere and anywhere, but this place… this was heaven. The air was crisp and clean, cleaning out the muggy humidity, and really, being able to rent a beach house with this much privacy? With a deck that extended right out into the ocean?

_Amazing._

Oliver sighed wordlessly next to her, his hands gripping the wood deck tightly; his fingers were white with the effort.

Felicity glanced at them from under her sunglasses and then up to him. His eyes were closed, his breathing coming out in short, stunted pants, his body swaying.

“Maybe I just like big things,” Felicity mused and Oliver gave her a breathy chuckle, bowing his head, all his attention focused on everything but their surroundings.

Keeping one hand gripping the deck where they leaned, Oliver reached for her blindly. Felicity moved towards him, his hand landing on her shoulder where it slid up and around her neck. He moaned something intelligible, pulling her into him, before his lips crashed against hers.

Her moan matched his as she opened her mouth, giving herself to him as much as he was giving to her and he took advantage, thrusting his tongue against hers.

Felicity gripped his cock tighter, making him whimper deep in his chest.

His cock was rock-hard under her hand, smooth skin gliding over it effortlessly. His shorts were undone, barely hooked over his hips as he thrust into her grip. Every time she came up, her thumb rubbed up and over the sensitive head, making him growl with each touch.

Oliver’s kisses were graceless, wet and needy, his hold on her neck tightening rhymthmically in time with her hold on him. He held onto her like he needed an anchor, something to keep him grounded, and she moved her hand faster, making him choke out a moan.

“Oh fuck, Felicity,” he whispered, the words tripping over his tongue and she twisted her grip slightly, tightening her fingers as she came up to the head. He held onto her, his eyes squeezed shut, leaning against her and the railing.

She watched him, the pleasure blossoming on his face, the abandon with which he thrust against her, and she couldn’t help but be amazed that this giant, terrifying man was literally putty in her hand, trusting her so implictely as he let go, giving himself to her in such an intimate way.

Felicity twisted her wrist rhymthically, pushing him higher, and he rewarded her with a deep groan of her name that sent a wash of desire crashing through her. She was only wearing her bathing suit bottoms, hardly able to handle much more than swimming, and she felt the slickness of her desire seeping down her inner thigh.

He moaned again, more urgently, his hips moving faster and his fingers on her neck tightened, his body starting to stiffen. Felicity’s arm was starting to burn with the exertion, but she pushed past it, silently musing that she was going to have amazing right arm strength at the end of this trip, rubbing him faster, squeezing, squeezing…

“Yes, yes, yes, Felicity, that… that…” His words quickly dissolved into tangled moans, and…

Oliver came with a short yell, the sound echoing out into ocean waves. Long ropes of hot cum spurted out of his cock, coating the wood deck, the ground and her hand. His hips moved without cadence as Felicity milked him for everything he had, more cum spilling out of him until there was nothing left, until Oliver finally slumped against the railing.

“Oh god,” he whispered, his body trembling and Felicity chuckled, rubbing her thumb over the wet head of his cock and he jerked, letting out a needy, painful moan. “Aahh, ah… That… that was… ugh…”

Felicity hummed, releasing him, smiling at his inability to form words.

“Felicity?”

“Yeah?”

He pushed himself up on shaky arms, another gust of wind coming in that pushed his t-shirt against his chest.

He looked at her, his face soft with pleasure and happiness.

“What the hell is phanerogam?”

“Oh. This,” Felicity said, and she raised her hand.

Her eyes never left his as her tongue darted out to lick up the cum he’d covered her pinky and ring fingers in. His eyes darkened with another bout of desire, watching her wrap her lips around her fingers, licking them clean. He barely choked out her name before he tugged her towards him, his lips covering hers again, tasting himself on her tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out Phalanges, Part 2 for Felicity's turn...
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/119454482204/ive-had-this-prompt-in-my-head-for-days-i-need)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse. Thank you for reading!


	11. Phalanges, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow-up to Phalanges, Part 1... Felicity gets her turn...

_“What the hell is phanerogam?”_

_“Oh. This,” Felicity said, and she raised her hand._

_Her eyes never left his as her tongue darted out to lick up the cum he’d covered her pinky and ring fingers in. His eyes darkened with another bout of desire, watching her wrap her lips around her fingers, licking them clean. He barely choked out her name before he tugged her towards him, his lips covering hers again, tasting himself on her tongue._

Oliver walked her backwards until they hit the railing, his kisses growing uncoordinated and sloppy with his urgency as he groaned at the taste of her and his cum. He pushed his body flush against hers, his half-hard cock slipping between them, still wet.

Felicity moaned, twisting away from his lips to get air. His hands roamed all over her, a heady mixture of needing to touch her everywhere, but not able to; he gripped the side of her neck, sliding it down to her breast, the other slipping down, cupping her ass in a relentless hold.

Sensation overwhelmed her, ratcheting up her need as he palmed her breast through her tank top, bending her back over the railing.

“Oliver…”

He was mindless in his need to touch her, and he touched her everywhere. He tweaked her nipple, making her yelp, the sharp pain merging with the pleasure surging straight for her core, before he slipped his hand back up, cupping her jaw, forcing her lips back to his. He swallowed her soft moans, and she swallowed his as they pushed and pulled against each other, their combined need growing rapidly. Felicity’s sex throbbed for more, already drenched with desire from watching him come because of her, but he wasn’t ready yet.

Oliver realized it at the same time.

He ripped his lips away from hers with a wet pop, leaving her dazed, trying to catch her breath, her face burning from his stubble. His eyes were hooded, his mouth swollen as he gripped her hips and spun her. Felicity gasped in surprise, her hands fumbling for the railing. Oliver was already moving, yanking his shorts back up before he stooped behind her.

“Hold on,” he growled, the words so dark with promise that her knees nearly gave out but she did as he asked, gripping the railing tightly.

Oliver shoved his right hand into her bikini bottoms roughly, his fingers delving into her wet folds with purpose. She was so wet, and he inhaled sharply as her juices coated his fingers, making them slippery.

“God, I love how wet you get, Felicity,” he whispered harshly, his voice jagged with his growing need, and she whimpered, grinding down on his fingers as they spread her wetness, already feeling him growning harder behind her. “You get so wet for me, do you have any idea how hot that is?”

Felicity was too far gone to answer, his words amplifying his touch as he started rubbing short hard circles over her swelling clit. She whimpered when he dipped down, pushing his other hand up underneath her swimsuit from the bottom, her ample juices coating him there as well.

“Aaahhhh,” she whined, her voice carrying out into the ocean, every sense focused on his hands. She didn’t hear the waves or the seagulls or anything anymore. She only heard Oliver’s soft groans as he touched her, the sound of her heartbeat hammering in her chest, the rough wood under her hand shifting…

Everything felt like it was on fire as he covered his hands in her wet heat before he slipped one finger into her aching channel.

Felicity’s back bowed, thrusting into his hand, his other still rubbing her clit in tight circles, and then he added a second… and then a third… and then a fourth, stretching her.

“Oh god!” Felicity cried, shoving herself up on her toes. Oliver pressed his hand as deep as it would go, his other still rubbing her clit. He moved his fingers in quick successive movements, thrusting shallowly but spreading her so deliciously that her orgasm built rapidly.

Felicity fell against the railing, thrusting against him, her nails digging into the wood as Oliver pushed his face against the back of her neck. He blew her hair out of the way, making her gasp, before his lips and tongue attacked her, leaving her breathless as he fucked her with his fingers.

Her shouts of pleasure grew louder and louder, echoing along the beach, and Oliver’s hand moved faster, thrusting into her, meeting her hips moving against him. Her clit was so wet his fingers kept slipping off of it, but it was enough…. it was enough to tighten the hot coil in her center, to make her burn hotter…

“Oh… oh… oh!… Oli… ver… Oliver!”

For a split second, Felicity was suddenly aware of everything. She felt all his fingers inside her, felt his hand massaging her clit, felt his hot breath on her neck, his teeth nipping at her, felt the ocean breeze, felt the spray of the waves, felt the wood splintering into her hand where she held the railing…

“Come for me, Felicity, come for me now,” Oliver grunted and Felicity stiffened. “ _Now_.”

She came apart at the seams, her orgasm crashing through her. Oliver didn’t relent though, and he rubbed her clit harder, forcing another quick orgasm on her that felt like she was being ripped apart; she came harder, her vicious shout rippling over the beach, her channel pulsing around his fingers buried deep inside her…

The world went dark.

The next thing Felicity was aware of was Oliver’s soft kisses on her shoulder, his body wrapped around hers from behind where she still leaned on the railing. She blinked, the world far too bright all of a sudden…

Oliver’s wet fingers pressed against her stomach, pulling her up against him. He was hard again, and he rubbed himself against her ass, making her shiver.

“I think our neighbors heard you,” he whispered into her ear, sounding far too pleased with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/119460060439/yall-twisting-my-arm-heres-a-follow-up-to-this)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse. Thank you for reading!


	12. 2:48 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Felicity's birthday.

Something poked her.

“Hmph,” she moaned, shifting. She felt like she’d just shut her eyes a minute ago.

“Felicity.”

“Sshhh, too early,” she whispered, her voice cracking with sleep. She turned without opening her eyes, reaching out for him. “C'mere, bed good.”

“Open your eyes,” Oliver replied.

“Mhm, no.” Felicity scrunched her face, shaking her head. “What time is it?”

“Early. Open your eyes.”

“Numbers. Use numbers,” she mumbled, snuggling deeper into the bed. She tried to tug the sheet over her head but Oliver stopped her.

“It’s early.”

“Oliver…”

“Felicity…” Oliver cupped her cheek and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Come on, open your eyes.”

With a tiny moan, Felicity opened them to a soft glow. She blinked, nuzzling Oliver’s hand on her cheek, waking up more. He was smiled down at her, the light flickering over his features.

Flickering?

“Hi,” Oliver said.

Felicity pushed herself up into her elbow, looking around.

The entire motel room was filled with candles. They covered every surface, from the night tables to the floor to the bathroom counter. It was pitch dark outside, enhancing the soft glow inside.

It was beautiful.

“What is this?” Felicity asked, looking at Oliver.

He smiled. “It’s 2:48 a.m. on May 31st. Happy birthday.”

“Oh, Oliver,” Felicity whispered, sitting up, her voice softening with emotion. “You remember that?”

“Of course I remember,” Oliver replied. “I remember everything about you.”

Felicity sat up, pushing the sheet off. Oliver stayed on his knees next to the bed and when she swung her legs off, he caught them, spreading them open and scooting forward so she cradled his hips. He slid his hands up to her waist, pressing his lips to hers. Felicity moaned, cupping his face, pulling him closer.

“I remember you told me,” he continued quietly, kissing her in-between words. “Your mom used to wake you up, exactly at this time, with a cupcake.”

Felicity shook her head in wonder, grinning as he recited what’d she told him on an offhand night a few years before, when their partnership was still new, when a long night doing surveillance was either empty awkward space or random chitchat.

“And after describing how you came into the world with the loudest squeals she’d ever heard,” Felicity laughed, “She told you to make a wish.” Oliver pulled back enough to pick something up off the ground. It was a small cupcake, with a single candle in it. It was red velvet, the only kind of cake Donna Smoak could bake. Felicity bit her lip, biting back the giant grin that wanted to crack her face in half. “Make a wish, Felicity.”

Felicity stared at the candle for a moment, her mind running through the last few weeks of bliss and then further back, through some of the hardest months of her life.

She made a face. “I don’t need to.”

Oliver cocked his head, furrowing his brow in question.

“My birthday wish was always to just… be happy. We didn’t have the easiest life, after my dad left, and I always wished that something would happen, to let us be happy, even if it was just one day. And…” Felicity traced his face with her thumbs, the gentle laugh lines he’d started gaining since they’d left Starling, the warm tan, his bright eyes. “I have it. I’m happy, Oliver.”

Oliver grinned, shaking his head. “And you say I’m the sappy one.”

“Oh you are,” Felicity said, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “You filled the entire room with candles, you giant sap. Fire hazards be darned.”

Oliver laughed, pushing his face into her neck, making her giggle. “I wanted to be romantic.”

“Oh it is. Very much so.” Felicity sighed, snuggling closer to him. He held her closer, tugging her hips closer to his. She felt the insistent press of his erection pushing through his pajama bottoms, rubbing against her sensitive core, and she shivered. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His lips slipped over her jaw and neck and she arched into him, much more awake now. “Happy birthday.”

“Mm, thank you…” Oliver continued his exploration, the cupcake still in hand; the candles flickered around them, making everything look ethereal as his teeth nipped at her gently, soothing the spots with his tongue, fueling the quickly growing need starting to burn in the pit of her stomach. Felicity licked her lips, wanting to return the favor… “Oliver. I lied.”

“Hmm?” he hummed against her skin.

“I do have a birthday wish.”

Oliver pulled back, arching an eyebrow.

“I want to eat my birthday cupcake,” she said, reaching between them. She cupped him through his pants, making him groan. “Off my birthday present.”

Oliver gave her a breathy chuckle, thrusting into her hand.

“I think that can be arranged for the birthday girl.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/120374793194/2-48-a-m-happy-birthday-felicity-olicity-t)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	13. Birthday Nap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - chapsterworld asked: I like your work and your fics, can you please make one for felicity's birthday?? Please girl

Felicity loved naps.

She hadn’t always loved naps. They were a thing of luxury that required taking a chunk of time out of the day to enjoy, and she’d never had the time for them. She certainly wanted sleep from pure exhaustion sometimes, but never let herself sit down and rest her eyes for a minute - take twenty minutes here, an accidental three hours there.

Never _that_ kind of napping.

She’d taken a lot of naps since they’d left Starling behind them.

Sometimes she slept in the car, sometimes she fell asleep on the beach under the warmth of the sun, sometimes she dozed in an armchair, sometimes in a hammock… She’d quickly learned she was very comfortable just about anywhere as long as Oliver was there with her, because she knew she could fall asleep and not have to worry about anything, that he’d be there, to keep her safe, to keep her warm… to just keep her.

And since today was her birthday, Felicity decided it was a fine time for a nap. After waking her at 2:48 that morning and a significant amount of time showing him how much she appreciated the gesture, they’d gone back to sleep before waking up for swimming followed by a late brunch. They’d only come back to the hotel room so she could take a quick shower before they headed out to drive along the coast again…

One thing had led to another, and somehow she’d wound up on the bed, dozing.

She didn’t want presents or balloons or a bunch of random people at a restaurant singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her.

She wanted _this_.

Nap time, with an Oliver on the side.

Felicity felt the drape of sleep starting to fade as something warm shifted her on the bed. She hummed under her breath, rolling with whatever was moving her, wondering if she was dreaming because everything felt so comfortable right then, so _good_.

Hands. 

That’s what she was feeling: hands.

Felicity’s own hands landed on her stomach and she ran them up her abdomen, over her breasts, across her tightly peaked nipples and up to her neck.

God, she felt… Felicity moaned, the sensation of being touched _everywhere_ making her feel like she was floating. The hands on her legs were so warm, so loving, and when they pushed her legs open she went along gladly, her own hands still moving over herself.

She was naked, she realized, a cool breeze blowing across her wet, sensitive flesh. There was another breeze, like she was spread open right in front of a window, blew across her puffy lips and wet clit, making her shiver.

Felicity cupped her breasts, arching into the breeze, spreading her legs wider, feeling a soft, gentle pull of pleasure starting to build inside. The breeze came again and she moaned, twisting her nipples.

There was a groan, from somewhere else, that forced the fuzzy dreamworld around her to dissipate a bit, but not enough, not enough to pull her out of it, especially when a hot, eager mouth suddenly covered her sex.

“Oh!” Felicity yelped, throwing one hand out to grasp the bed, curling the sheet between her fingers, her other hand still tweaking a nipple. The sharp pain radiated down through her body, straight for her center, and she gasped.

The mouth on her was gentle, taking its time, tasting her… exploring. Felicity keened, arching her back again, thrusting into the mouth and those hands from before grasped her hips to keep her still…

Felicity suddenly woke up at the thought, because only Oliver held her like that. 

She blinked herself awake, seeing nothing but a whitewash of pure nothingness as the mouth nursed at her clit, his tongue stroking over it, building her orgasm so softly she thought she might fall apart right then and there.

The ceiling slowly came into focus, barely, most of her attention on the talented mouth between her thighs.

“Oliver,” she whispered, arching up again, and he lifted his head enough to say, “You’re awake,” before going back down on her.

“Ooohh,” she replied mindlessly, her eyes falling shut again, her hips undulating against his mouth. She felt his warm fingers caressing her hips in time with her small thrusts, so rough on her soft skin. She felt the callouses he’d developed from his bow, the scars from the years on the island, in Hong Kong, Russia, from the hours spent making his arrows… it all touched her and she shuddered.

He sucked her clit into his mouth, making her choke out a gasp, and he reached up, covering the hand she still had on one of her breasts, urging it to keep moving. She _felt_ his eyes on her hand, watching her, and she did as he requested, rolling her nipple between her fingers again, making him groan.

The vibrations sliced through her, spiking the pleasure coiling tightly in the pit of her stomach.

“Oh god, yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

He groaned again and her hips jerked up against his mouth, and then he started humming. He wrapped his lips around her clit, his tongue flickering over it.

“Yes, yes,” she moaned. “Yes, yes, like that, like that… don’t stop, don’t stop…”

He hummed louder, his tongue moving faster…

Felicity cried out, twisting her nipple painfully, the sensation adding to the growing inferno inside her.

Her skin felt prickly, like it was too hot, like she couldn’t breathe, and it grew tighter and tighter, holding her down… the pleasure building…

Oliver suddenly let go of her hips and he thrust a finger deep inside her.

“Oh god!” Felicity cried. “Oliver, yes, yes, yes…”

He moved his finger in and out, slowly gaining speed, until the hot burn started radiating straight from her core, straight from where he was thrusting into her. He hummed again, his tongue flickering over her clit, his finger thrusting, her finger squeezing her nipple…

Her release slammed into her, exploding from deep inside. Her loud shouts - “Ah, ah, ahhh!” - filled the room, surrounding her in sensation as her hips thrust up into his face, on his finger, her inner walls spasming around him, the pleasure rolling through her in heavy, sharp waves.

Oliver suddenly grabbed her hips and shoved her back down on the bed, holding her still, his mouth wrapping around her clit… and he _sucked_.

_“Oh god!”_ The second orgasm came on without warning. It carved her up from the inside out, the dark, delicious pleasure crashing into her, making her back arch clear off the bed, a jagged cry falling from her throat…

“Oooh,” she whimpered. “Oh… Oliver…”

Felicity couldn’t have moved her arms or legs, even if she wanted to. She felt him crawling up over her, felt him dragging his face up across her skin, leaving a wet mess behind as he kissed his way up to her mouth.

“Wow,” she managed, earning a chuckle from him, before his lips covered hers. She moaned, tasting and smelling herself all over his face… When he pulled back, she licked her lips, savoring their combined taste, and she opened her eyes. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, grinning. “We should get going if we want to catch the sunset.”

“Oh,” she said drowsily, nodding. “Right.”

Oliver chuckled, pressing his lips to hers again, leaving some of her juices on her chin as he whispered, “Happy birthday,” against her lips, followed by a reverent, “I love you.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/120392922189/i-like-your-work-and-your-fics-can-you-please)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	14. You Know What I Don't Get?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: If you're still doing prompts, maybe Felicity finding out the fandom-wide headcanon of why Isabel hated her? (thank you Captain Amell)

“You know what I never got?”

“Hmm?” Oliver asked, looking at her as he bit into his apple. She watched a thin line of juice slide down his chin, through his beard - and it was becoming a beard, after she’d told him she refused to kiss him if he insisted on growing his Pornstache. He wiped it away, his eyes on her, the innuendo obvious. She rolled her eyes because honestly, eating an apple shouldn’t be so hot. It was an apple. Food. Sustenance.

Juicy.

_Oh my god._

“What did you never get?” Oliver prompted, bumping his shoulder with hers. She bumped him back and he made a face, which only emphasized how sun-burned he was; it was almost as bad as her shoulders, but that darn well wasn’t going to stop them from enjoying the dock they currently sat at the end of, their feet in the cool water of the lake, the sun blinding them when it hit the water just right.

“Why Isabel hated me so much.” Oliver stiffened, and Felicity just looked at him. He always got weird when anyone mentioned Isabel Rochev - and who could blame him? He’d slept with his father’s mistress, that’s not exactly something you write home about. “I mean, I know why she didn’t like you - well, why she hated everyone in the Queen family - and she did have about twenty-seven screws loose, but she _really_ didn’t like me. What did I ever do to her?”

Oliver made a noncommittal sound.

“I wasn’t very nice to her… although she wasn’t very nice either, but we were at least cordial, in that ‘hey, we don’t like each other because our basic moral codes are so different, but let’s be nice’ sort of way. But I must have done something, because one day she walked into the office and if looks could kill, Oliver, I would have been a pile of dust. No, not even dust, I would have completely ceased to exist. And let me tell you, that woman could _glare_. When people talk about resting bitch face, she wins. Every time.”

Oliver swallowed his apple bite and shook his head. “It wasn’t you.”

“I don’t know about that, it felt pretty pointed.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t. You, uh…” Oliver cleared his throat, pinching his lips. “Well, you know I slept… with her. In Russia.”

Felicity raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I remember, I was there. I mean, I wasn’t there, in the room, because wow, talk about awkward, but yes. I remember. Vividly.”

Oliver licked his lips, the stiffness in his shoulders growing, well, stiffer. “I might have said something I shouldn’t have said. During that… visit.”

“What?” Oliver opened his mouth to respond, still staring out at the lake, before he changed his mind. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s… it’s something.”

“What? Come on, the suspense is killing me.”

“I said the wrong name,” he said, glancing down at his apple before looking at her. “When I was with her.”

The realization hit her instantly and her eyes widened. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“No…”

“Yeah.”

“But…” Felicity shook her head. “That was… that was forever ago, why were you saying… _my_ name. Oh my god, it was my name right?”

Oliver’s chuckle was involuntary, and he shook his head as he said, “Yes,” before he took another bite of his apple. He chewed, like he was trying to organize his thoughts, and she waited because this… this wasn’t a small thing. “I think I realized I was in love with you around that time. Well, not that sort of revelation, but I knew there was something… more. Maybe not when I called her your name, but definitely when I opened the door and saw you. I didn’t like the way I felt, especially when I saw that look on your face.”

“But you… never said anything.” Oliver slid her a long look and she rolled her eyes. “Right. I forgot trying to get you to talk about anything during that time was like trying to teach a brick wall the ABC’s.”

Oliver snorted, giving her that. “Do you remember when I said I didn’t think I could be with anyone, at least anyone I could really care about?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“I mean, I knew there was something, because you talked about it later, but… oh.”

The only sound between them for a long moment was the soft push of water hitting the dock, a frog on the shore and the subtle sound of cicadas echoing.

“I think I would’ve hated me too,” Felicity finally said and Oliver laughed again, leaning over to kiss the side of her neck. Felicity repaid him by snatching his apple, taking a bite as he scooted closer to her, neither caring that it was too hot for snuggling.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/120405460104/if-youre-still-doing-prompts-maybe-felicity)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	15. Early Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut Prompt - Anonymous asked: i have a sleepy!sex olicity drabble prompt if you'll ever find time to write it. bonus points if you'll include sappy, loving oliver and if it's set after s3. thank you thank you thank you xo

Oliver woke slowly, shifting.

Felicity’s warm body moved the second his did, like they were both being pulled by the same string. She moved to lay on her side, facing away from him, one of her smooth legs moving back, rubbing against his before she settled it on top of his ankle.

She let out a contented sigh, sinking back into her pillow.

Oliver smiled faintly, sleepily, still feeling the drugging effects of dream space urging him to return.

His inner alarm clock told him it was around four in the morning, and that the sun was still a few hours off. The light breeze coming through the open window told him that the sprinklers had come on at their rental condo because the air was a little crisper, and the scent of freshly wet grass wafted in. The air told him it had rained around midnight. The remnants of the wine they’d spilled on the hardwood floor was still evident in the air, on both their hands, and her deep, steady breaths told him she was still dead to the world.

He didn’t bother opening his eyes.

Oliver moved lazily through the warm sheets.

He slipped his hand underneath them and found her naked hip - her very, very warm, naked hip - and pulled himself closer, sliding his hand up her side.

She barely moved save for a tiny twitch in her arm.

Oliver wrapped his arm around her, pressing his face to the back of her neck - she was so _warm_.

Eyes still closed, Oliver moved his hand down her stomach, to her thighs, and she shifted again, pressing back against him, still not waking.

He felt the deep tug of arousal pulling at the edges of his mind, his body becoming much more aware.

Oliver gently pulled her closer and rolled her onto her back.

Tugging the sheet out of the way, Oliver ran his hands over her body, feeling every inch of her, his movements slow and languid with sleep, feeling like he was moving in a dream…

Felicity moved against him, still not awake herself, opening her arms. Oliver moved over her, scooting until she was beneath him and she spread her legs, letting him settle between her thighs. She was wet - _god, she was always wet, she was already ready, it was one of his favorite things about her; he just had to touch her, sometimes just look at her, and when he pushed his finger up against her folds, he found her dripping with need. It always made him harder, made his own need for her sharper, knowing that it was because of him, for him_ \- from their earlier love-making, her thigh still sticky with dried cum.

She moaned, and Oliver felt the shift in her body when she woke up a little more. She didn’t open her eyes either; instead she opened her legs more, just enough for him to slip into the spot made just for him, for his hard cock to press against her wet sex. Oliver moved almost on autopilot, letting his body do the work while his mind drifted in the soft, sweet world where only Felicity existed.

His Felicity…

She wrapped her arms limply around his shoulders and Oliver buried his face in the crook of her neck, pulling back just enough for the head of his cock to slip down, and with the practiced movements of having done this dozens of times already, he found her entrance and thrust in.

“Ah,” she whispered softly. He pulled out and thrust back in, his pace leisurely. She tried to lift her hips to meet his thrusts, but she was too tired, still under the threat of sleep.

Oliver pushed his hands up underneath her back, wrapping her up in his arms, pulling her closer to his chest. Her beautiful breasts pressed tightly to his chest as he inhaled her, held her, made love to her in the early morning hours.

“Oliver,” she whispered tiredly, lifting her legs to wrap around him, her feet landing in the soft crook of his knees. “Mmm…”

Oliver pressed wet sloppy kisses to her neck and shoulder, moving up until he found her ear.

“You are my everything, Felicity,” he whispered, his words drugged with sleep, thrusting into her slowly. She sighed, turning her face against his. “I love you so much.”

“Oliver…” Her voice hitched, cracking slightly, and on his next thrust he pushed in as deep as he could and paused, filling her, and she gave him a breathy whine. “Oliver…”

“I love you,” he whispered again. It didn’t take long before he felt the hot coil starting to tighten at the base of his spine, her warm, silken walls clenching around him. “I love you…”

“I love you,” she slurred back, pressing her face to his, and for the first time since he’d woken her, he felt the tiny push of her fingers on his shoulders, urging him on. “Oliver…”

“Yes…” he moaned softly, and he held her tighter, pulling her in closer, ignoring the tingling in his arms from being trapped under both their combined weight. It quickly faded to the back of his mind as the pleasure swirling inside him started to gain focus, to grow hotter. “Yes…”

Felicity choked out a moan, her nails digging into his shoulders, and he recognized the sign.

Oliver thrust deeply into her, making her gasp, and he held, rubbing his pelvic bone against hers. He angled himself down so his tiny thrusts hit her clit.

It was rough and harsh and perfect as she started trembling underneath him, the gentle pleasure waves coasting through her.

Her tiny cries filled the room, urging him not to stop… Oliver kept moving, kept rubbing her, lifting onto his toes for more leverage, pushing down on her harder…

She came without warning, a low keel wrenching from her throat, her inner walls clamping down on him.

Oliver moaned and pulled out and thrust back in with a quick, deep thrust once, twice… three times… before he joined her in oblivion, his loud groan filling their tiny intimate bubble as he spilled his seed deep inside her. Her walls pulled him in more, milking him for everything he had, sending pleasant aftershocks skating across his nerves, making him jerk against her tender flesh…

Oliver barely had enough sense to unwind his arms and pull out before he collapsed next to her on the bed.

Felicity hummed pleasantly, turning towards him. She rubbed her face against his bicep and he lifted his arm, letting her snuggle up against his side.

“Mmm, g’night,” she sighed, pressing in closer. She dug her hand in between his arm and side, hugging him, and threw her leg over his. He felt the face she made when her knee slid over his wet cock.

Oliver grinned tiredly, wrapping her up in his arms again, delighting in the heat emanating from her core against his hip.

Exhaustion pulled at him at him again and he gladly gave himself over.

Oliver pressed his face to the top of her head, taking a deep breath.

“Felicity,” he whispered, his tongue dragging her name out. Her answer was a light snore. “My beautiful Felicity…

“I love you.”

Sleep claimed him again, and they didn’t wake again until nearly noon.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/121245235814/i-have-a-sleepy-sex-olicity-drabble-prompt-if)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	16. Cancelled Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oliver…” She gasped as he moved down her neck. She lifted her feet, trying to hook her toes into his boxer briefs “Why are wearing these?”

The deep soft fog of sleep broke without warning, pulling her out of her deep cubby of slumber, like they knew exactly where she’d been hiding, knew exactly what it took to coax her out…

Something warm and soft tickled her neck.

Felicity giggled, so quietly and gently it came out sounding more like a squeaky hum. He paused, and then she felt the ground beneath her moving as he slid down lower on the bed, dragging his lips down her chest and between the valley of her breasts. His stubble scratched at her sensitive skin, and she bit her lip, her fingers carding through his hair.

Oliver pushed her legs apart and situated himself between them. A soft smile tugged at her lips, her eyes still closed as he laid on top of her, his chest pressing right against her very naked _everything_ down there, and rested his chin on her stomach.

“Good morning,” he said, the movement of his jaw and throat pressing his stubble into her skin, tickling her. Felicity giggled, wiggling underneath him and Oliver responded by digging his grinning face into her playfully.

“Hey, no… stop… stop… so mean,” Felicity laughed, her voice coming out in a husky croak, pushing his face away from her. “Morning tickles are mean!”

“I’m sorry,” Oliver whispered, but the dopey grin she heard in his voice said the exact opposite.

Oliver rested his chin on her stomach again. Felicity ran her nails over his scalp, reveling in his delicious weight as he slowly grew more languid on top of her. He pressed a kiss to her naked stomach.

“Waking you up keeps getting harder and harder,” he said, amusement coloring his tone.

“Mmm, you can only blame yourself,” Felicity replied, stretching, clenching handfuls of his hair so she didn’t lose contact. She took a deep breathing, still not opening her eyes, and settled further into the mattress, more than ready to go back to sleep. “You keep me up all night, what do you expect?”

Oliver pressed a kiss to her stomach, and then another, and another.

Felicity bit her lip again, arching into his touch, her body growing warm underneath him… well, growing warmer. She was barely awake, but her body knew exactly what it wanted.

She was very aware of what she wanted, what she needed.

_Him._

Like, overly aware.

It hadn’t taken long for her to recognize the deeply intrinsic _something_ that had always drawn them together was growing stronger; it had always been there, dancing up to the surface so many times only to be pushed back down in denial, or anger, or pain… but now, now they were both in - all the way in - and that bond had only grown deeper…

One month.

It had been one month since they’d left Starling, since they’d driven for hours - days, even - on end, with no destination and no plan save for each other.

Oliver’s tongue dipped into her belly button, yanking her out of her thoughts, and she grabbed a handful of his hair again, pushing herself up against his bare chest. She felt the tiniest bit of friction and it was enough for the rush of wetness that pooled between her legs.

“Why are you all the way down there?” Felicity tugged on his hair. “Too far.”

Oliver smiled against her stomach, dragging his tongue over the supple slopes, and he pressed his chest against her sex. She gave him a low, uneven, “Aaahh,” and he did it again.

Felicity felt her juices smearing across his chest - if this had been twenty-six days ago, that would have mortified her, but now it only made her want more, want him more. She spread her legs, yanking on his hair, urging him up.

Oliver hummed his approval, following her direction, and crawled up her body. 

Felicity grabbed his face and their lips crashed together. Oliver settled over her, rocking his hips against hers, and Felicity keened, pressing her naked chest into his. The heady scent of her arousal on his skin filled the space between them.

But why wasn’t he naked?

“Oliver…” She gasped as he moved down her neck. She lifted her feet, trying to hook her toes into his boxer briefs “Why are wearing these?”

“You wanted to go…” he started, his tongue finding _that spot_ on her neck and Felicity’s mind blanked. “On that tour.”

“What? What… oh, Oliver…”

“The tour. Of those caves,” he continued, and then he _sucked_ on that spot. 

Felicity cried out, arching into him, hiking her legs up higher.

Oliver’s hand slid down her leg, over her thigh and calf, his touch loving and firm, pulling her closer. His large fingers wrapped around her foot and he pushed it around him, wrapping her leg around his hip, and he pressed his very evident hardness right against her…

“No, no tour.” Felicity shook her head rapidly. “I don’t care about the tour.”

Oliver chuckled and she grabbed him, pulling his face back to hers. She cut his chuckle off with a searing kiss, one that he immediately responded to, and his hand tightened on her foot, pushing it tighter around him, his hips thrusting against her heat.

“No tour,” he rasped against her lips, nodding, and then he reached down and shoved his boxers out of the way.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/121395426869/the-deep-soft-fog-of-sleep-broke-without-warning)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	17. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d craved the control for so long that it dictated every aspect of his life… until Felicity.
> 
> Or so he’d thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally for a prompt that was about Oliver taking the lead, considering how much Felicity guided them in 3x20… and then this spiraled out of control on me, so it’s kind of a mixed bag character-wise. I’m going to re-attempt that prompt, but until then, have some slightly-dominant!Oliver.
> 
> [This is the Breckenridge cabin I had in mind while writing this.](http://www.lakerentals.com/lakes/Breckenridge-3-bedroom-Condo-42392.htm)

Oliver had always known Felicity was passionate.

There was a light inside her, something that burned bright and pure, that fueled everything that was good about her. She was passionate about everything from the color of her nails (she never matched her fingernails and toenails, as he’d learned, but they always complimented each other somehow) to finding out the entire life story of their neighbor when they got locked out of their motel room.

She cared about everything with every ounce of her being; she gave everything, and wasn’t afraid to take what she wanted with the same amount of passion…

Including him.

And Oliver _loved it._

It didn’t matter where they were, or what they were doing, she always wanted him. From the park, to the beach, to the restaurant bathroom, to on the trunk of the Porsche… and he gladly went along every single time. Wherever she led, he followed, happily. It was _freeing_ letting her take the lead, whether that was in the bedroom or where they went next on the road trip.

Whenever she rolled on top of him, or gave him a suggestive look, or wiggled her eyebrows - a sight that always made him laugh before she kissed him - he followed. There was never a moment when he wanted her that she didn’t want him with just as much ferocity, and they took it without any qualms.

Ever since the island, his life had been about control. He’d sought it out, fought for it, kept as tight a leash as he could on as much as he could, ever since it all spiraled out of control when the Gambit went down.

He’d craved the control for so long that it dictated every aspect of his life… until Felicity.

Or so he’d thought.

Oliver crossed his arms and leaned against the wall near the entrance to the kitchen, watching her flit around as she made dinner.

_“How often are we in a really nice place on a really pretty mountain that has an actual kitchen? No, we’re staying in tonight. I’m cooking.”_

She’d kicked him out ten minutes ago because he kept going from chopping vegetables to trying to put his hand down her pants, which was apparently distracting. The last time she’d slapped him with a spatula, and then she’d swung it at his head.

_“Out! I give you one thing to do… if I chop off my finger because you wanted to get handsy, buddy, I am holding you personally responsible.”_

Oliver had put his hands up, barely able to keep the smile off his lips - “Okay, no more, I’m sorry” - but then she’d narrowed her eyes suspiciously and he had to bite his lip from grinning.

When she finally turned to the chopping board, carefully cutting a carrot, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from coming up behind her. He’d wrapped his arms around her, his hands covering hers, following her gentle cutting motions… and for a split second, she almost gave in - the way her soft body melted back against his chest, her head falling back, angling to give him all the access he wanted to her neck… his lips had touched on her pulse point and he’d pressed her into the counter, rubbing the erection he’d been sporting since she put on those ridiculously short shorts… before she’d snapped out of it.

_“Oliver!”_

They were in Colorado, a few miles outside Breckenridge, and they had been for the last week. The cabin was gorgeous, and in its off-season so it wasn’t the exorbitant price they usually boasted around ski season. It was way too big for just them, but it had a Jacuzzi on the porch and its own washer and dryer… and a beautiful blonde woman swinging her hips to music only she could hear as she cut up the rest of the vegetables before brushing them into a bowl.

She was wearing tiny little shorts - surely they were meant to be worn as underwear, they were glued to her like a second skin - and a camisole that highlighted her toned curves.

She’d grown curvier since they’d left Starling City; her ‘boyfriend layer,’ as she called it when she’d been tugging on a new skirt.

He’d then proceeded to worship every inch of her body after hearing that, earning the title.

Felicity poured the vegetables into one of the pans simmering on the stove and put the bowl in the sink, her hips still swinging, her new short hair brushing across her bare shoulders. She paused, nodding to herself as she mentally went through what was currently cooking. Satisfied, she grabbed her tablet, swiping her finger over it, bringing it to life.

Oliver gave himself twenty seconds to start at her ass bouncing in time with the beat in her head before he snapped.

He’d had to watch her all day, _stare_ at her all day as they shopped for groceries, as they got gas, as they went hiking, as they explored the tiny shops downtown Breckenridge offered, buying up little bits and pieces here and there for people back in Starling City.

He’d had to watch her, unable to touch her like he wanted to, even now when they were alone…

Oliver was behind her in three long strides.

She didn’t hear him until it was too late and he didn’t give her a chance to react before he wrapped his arms around her, yanking her back against his chest, banding one arm under her breasts, nearly pulling her off her feet while his other slid down into her shorts.

“Oliver,” Felicity gasped, her hands flying to hang onto his arm. “What…”

But he was too far gone to care.

His fingers slid under her thong - the green one, he knew, because he’d had to watch her get dressed that morning, again _without touching_ \- and into her sex.

She was _wet_.

Oliver groaned and slid his fingers down through the ample juices pooling at her entrance, spreading the creamy wetness all over her clit.

Felicity choked out a moan, her nails digging into his arm, her head falling back. Oliver’s mouth landed on her shoulder, and he quickly dragged his face up the column of her neck, his teeth finding her earlobe. She keened for him, loudly, her body arching back into his, her hips already grinding down on his hand.

He rubbed her clit in quick, uneven jerks, and she shuddered, grabbing the back of his neck, clinging to him, dinner forgotten as everything zeroed in on that second, his fingers, his lips, his stubble… Her moans grew louder and louder; he hadn’t been the only one in need all day as her juices soaked his hand, her hips grinding on him for _more_ and he yanked her back against his hard cock, stilling her movements, groaning when her lush ass pushed back against him.

“Don’t move,” he whispered harshly into her ear and she whimpered her protest, but did as he said.

Oliver moved his fingers in a tight circle, barely brushing over the surface of her hard clit, and she cried out his name, begging him for more… to not stop… She stayed still as he rubbed her faster and faster, clenching her tightly against him, delighting in the tight pressure of her ass pressing into him. A quick series of, “Aaahh, aah, ah!” shouts erupted from her and he dragged his nail over her clit.

Felicity came with a raspy shout from deep inside her, her back bowing, and Oliver held her tightly, riding her orgasm out with her, her wetness soaking through her thong and shorts.

He didn’t waste a second.

Oliver bent her over the counter, pulling his hand out, smearing her gleaming wetness all over her thigh. He pushed her shorts out of the way, his other hand splayed over her back, keeping her still. Her lungs were working overtime for air, her skin hot under his hand…

Oliver undid his pants and pulled his cock out and he thrust into her without warning.

“Aah, oh god!” Felicity cried, her body sliding across the counter from the force of it.

Oliver grasped her hips, pulling her back, her skin squeaking across the counter, his hips already moving. He pulled out, thrusting back in, keeping her still, the sound of his clothed pelvis slamming into her ass echoing in the kitchen.

His thrusts were hard and fast as he slammed into her, his grunts of pleasure echoing her sharp cries. Her fingers were bloodless where they dug into the counter for leverage, his own holding onto her hips so tightly she might bruise…

He _liked_ that, he liked the idea of marking her…

The hot burn of pleasure started building, and Oliver slid his hand back into her panties.

When he touched her clit, his fingers jerking against it without rhythm from the force of his thrusts, Felicity shook her head rapidly.

“No, no, I can’t, I can’t,” she gasped, but he didn’t reply.

All he felt was her slick heat clenching around him, needing _more_ , needing to feel her come around him, grasping him, sucking him in…

He rubbed her clit, his other hand helping her thrust back against him as he fucked her.

“Oooh… oh god, oh god!” Felicity rose on her toes as much as she could, her face buried in the cool counter, her cries muffled in the granite. “Yes, yes… yes!”

Oliver’s fingers moved of their own volition as his own pleasure started burning too hot, too fast. His head fell back, feeling only the delicious sensation of her surrounding him…

Felicity came again and she shot up off the counter with the force of it, a loud, endless cry falling from her throat. His fingers didn’t stop rubbing, pulling another sharp aftershock out of her as he thrust into her wildly, shoving her into the counter, chasing his own end.

“Oooh, Felic…” Oliver thrust deeply into her, bending over her, smashing her into the counter as he came, spilling inside her. “Aaahh!” Pleasure exploded, shooting through his body in sharp, almost painful sparks, jittering across every single nerve.

His lungs burned with the need for oxygen, and he had enough state of mind to take some of his weight off Felicity, who was still slumped over on the counter. The movement had his hips moving where he was still inside her.

She moaned pitifully, and Oliver chuckled tiredly.

“I should kick you out of the kitchen more often…” she whispered. “Because wow.”

“I don’t think I’d be able to walk,” Oliver replied. She chuckled, jostling his semi-erect cock again. She whimpered and he pressed in deeper, not wanting to leave her just yet, nuzzling the back of her neck. “Stop moving.”

“But… dinner…”

Oliver nipped at her shoulder and she jerked, her walls clenching around him.

“Dinner’s fine, Felicity,” he murmured, kissing her back, feeling the beginnings of his endless desire for her starting to burn again. He pressed a hard kiss to her shoulder, sucking on her, dragging his stubble over her skin, and her walls clamped down around him tightly. Oliver sighed, his fingers dug into her hips at the sensation.

Felicity moaned… and pushed back against him, making him hiss.

Oliver slapped her hip in reprimand with a sharp, “Felicity…”

She giggled…

And did it again.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/121851543734/distractions-olicity-explicit)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	18. Territorial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut Prompt - Anonymous asked: Can you do a prompt where Oliver says "You were jealous" And Felicity responds "How can I be be jealous? Jealousy is when you want something you cannot get, I was simply territorial."

The only thing Felicity was remotely aware of when she woke up was that there were tiny men with pickaxes in her head, and they were systematically chipping away at everything: her brain stem, her brain cells, her skull, her dura, her… pretty much _everything_.

Her head _hurt_.

Felicity groaned, burying her face into her pillow. The room was still dark from the curtains they must have drawn when they got back to the hotel last night, but a tiny bit of light was still seeping through, adding an army of knife-wielding lunatics to the pickaxes.

If she didn’t move, it didn’t hurt as much.

The bed dipped and Felicity rolled into it, making her groan.

“Sorry,” Oliver whispered - she was pretty sure it was supposed to be a whisper, but it sounded more like he’d pressed a trombone to her eardrum. Felicity moaned pathetically, keeping her eyes squeezed shut as she batted at him to go away. He chuckled - _again with the trombone_ \- and leaned over her, pressing a scratchy kiss to her shoulder. “You okay?”

“No,” Felicity grumbled. “Now please stop talking forever.”

She didn’t have to see him to know he was smiling at her expense, and she swung her hand at him again. He caught it, pressing a chaste kiss to her palm before gently setting it back down on the bed and moving to the bathroom.

Felicity curled in on herself, pushing her head under her pillow, and yanked his abandoned one against her naked chest. She wrapped her arms around it, inhaling deeply; it smelled like Oliver, which was soothing, soothing enough to make the throbbing mess in her head ease a little…

The sound of Oliver peeing and flushing the toilet, followed by the sound of the faucet turning on and heavy splashing as he washed his face calmed her. Felicity let it lull her back into a bubble, a bubble where nothing existed but sleep and waking up hangover-free.

The soft comforting tendrils of sleep were starting to wiggle their way through her head when she heard a low choked sound come from the bathroom.

Felicity froze, the sound yanking her out of the sleep bubble. She strained to hear more - because what if Oliver was actually _choking_ on something? What would she do, she could barely move without wanting to vomit everything she’d ever eaten up, what if he needed help and her idea of help was running _over_ him to get to the toilet? Irrational thoughts swirled through her mind, getting worse and worse, none of them helped by the sharp throbbing pain radiating in every single bone in her body, when the bathroom door opened.

“Oh thank god,” she breathed, sinking back into the bed. “Good… no choking, good…”

Oliver gave no indication he heard her.

He silently made his way to his side of the bed and laid back down. He readjusted more than necessary, jostling the bed and thus her, until he had his head propped up on his hand, probably so he could stare at her.

When he didn’t move or say anything else, she grunted.

After another moment of suspense, she finally poked her head out, just enough to look at him.

He was a giant blurry block of Oliverness and Felicity blinked, realizing she still had her contacts in. They were dry and scratchy - and they were more hovering _over_ her eyes than actually on them - but she could see him well enough after a second.

He was smiling.

“What?” she croaked suspiciously.

Oliver’s response was to lean his head back and her eyes didn’t need to be told to move; they flew right to a giant hickey on his neck.

He looked like he’d been mauled. By her lips. And teeth. And tongue.

“Oh…” she whispered. She blinked and it came into more focus. It was… _bad_. “Did I do that?” Oliver shot her an amused look at the ridiculous question and she bit her lip, the headache losing all its sharpness. She gave him a sheepish smile. “Oops?”

“Oops?” Oliver repeated, raising his eyebrows. “Oops would have been doing it here, Felicity…” He tapped the bed. “Not at the bar.”

“What? I did not,” Felicity replied, pushing herself out of her pillow fort, trying to remember exactly what he was talking about, but, well, the night was a bit… blackout-y.

“Oh, you did,” Oliver said. “It was after that woman came up a third time, when you went to get drinks.”

Felicity paused, trying to remember… A redhead, there was a redhead, wearing a red dress. She remembered telling Oliver she didn’t like Jessica Rabbit.

She groaned, shoving herself back under her pillow. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes. About five minutes after that you pulled me out to the dance floor and…” Felicity made something that sounded like an embarrassed snort-giggle and Oliver laughed, plucking the pillow off her head. “I didn’t even know what you were doing until you bit me.”

“Oh god,” Felicity moaned, covering her face. Oliver tapped the back of her hands, waiting for her to move them, but she didn’t budge. “I’m sorry,” she said, the words coming out in a muffled mess as she spoke into her palms.

“It’s okay,” Oliver replied. “I kinda liked it.” Felicity huffed a laugh. “You were jealous.”

That had her dropping her hands to look at him.

“Ha,” Felicity snorted. “How can I be jealous? Jealousy is when you want something you cannot get.” Oliver’s laugh was loud enough to almost make her headache front and center again, but the carefree sound only made her smile. “I was simply… territorial.”

“Territorial, huh?” Oliver asked, leaning in and nuzzling his face against hers until she moved, letting him have access to her neck.

His lips danced over her sensitive skin, his tongue darting out to taste, and she sighed, leaning her head back for more because oh, that felt very, very nice…

Until he sucked on the exact spot she’d given him a hickey.

“Oliver!” she yelped, shoving at his shoulders but he held on.

The sensation sent a streak of desire through her and she moaned despite herself, her body responding to him, like he was simultaneously sucking one of her nipples, or his head was between her legs. She bit her lip, her hips surging up towards him.

Oliver wrapped his arm around her and rolled them over, pulling her on top of him, letting her neck go with a loud pop. The cool air in the room attacked the wet spot he left behind as she pushed herself up and glared down at him. “Really?”

He grinned. “Fair’s fair.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/122105462784/can-you-do-a-prompt-where-oliver-says-you-were)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	19. Stripper Pole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver finds out how Felicity exercises...

Their spontaneous road trip was about a lot of things. 

Talking, sharing, healing; learning things about each other that they wouldn’t have shared outside the protective hub of a bed sheet under which they huddled, pressed together, naked, the gentle sun warming them as they talked.

But it was also about… exploring, and discovering.

Like, for example, Felicity’s magical ability to talk him into actually stripping for her when she saw the commercial for the new Magic Mike movie. After about an hour of her teasing and prodding, he’d finally snapped… and left her breathless, visibly shaking with need as he’d done just what she asked before he’d made her come so hard her throat had been raw afterwards.

And then there were other… things, things he never would have discovered if they hadn’t happened upon a stripper pole.

One good thing about being an ex-billionaire (currently still in the millionaire status, but the drops counted somewhere, he was sure; he still had an accountant on retainer who reminded him of this on a quarterly basis) with a family name that was very well known throughout the country?

You had a lot of friends. Well, acquaintances, which meant that when he and Felicity blew into a town he knew someone had a second (third, fourth or fifth, depending on the person) house, he could call them up and ask to stay there for a few days.

It was an excellent perk, and one he wasn’t above using, mostly because that meant he got to see Felicity on silk sheets… in a giant Jacuzzi on a secluded deck… on a granite counter top where he’d just cut up strawberries… in a shower with five showerheads that he put to _very good_ use.

There were other perks, like built-in gyms, or pools, or staff who insisted on making you omelets every single morning (although he usually dismissed them; he wasn’t there to be waited on, he was there to be with his girl).

He’d called up the Joskins an hour outside Colorado and asked after their Aspen mansion, and he’d gotten an immediate, “Of course, son, you can use it anytime. Just go to…” Felicity immediately did a quick sweep of the place while he went out for groceries and when he got back, asking if she found anything interesting, she’d just smiled and kissed him on the cheek with a, “Nothing really.”

The first day she slipped away for two hours, coming back all slick and sweaty with a, _“Just a little exercise, no big deal. All that fried food you keep feeding me is making my butt jiggle.”_

 _“I like it when it jiggles,”_ Oliver had replied and she’d smacked his arm, but he’d caught the grin on her lips anyway.

On the second day, she was gone for three hours.

On the third, Oliver waited an hour before his curiosity got the better of him. He made his way downstairs, following the faint sound of music.

The first time he and Felicity had exercised together, it hadn’t ended well; it had actually ended very well, with her legs thrown over his shoulders as he’d thrust into her, hard and deep - she’d gotten rug burn, which he hadn’t heard the end of for four days straight - but they got next to no actual exercise, so Felicity made a new rule: they exercised on their own. The problem went from distracting each other while exercising to distracting each other from getting to any exercise equipment or out the door for a run.

The entire basement was a converted gym; the space wasn’t huge but it was sectioned off into multiple rooms. The music was coming from the one at the end of the hallway. He reached the door, hearing something squeak. Oliver paused, furrowing his brow; he heard her soft grunts next and then more squeaking.

What was she doing?

Oliver opened the door a crack, the music growing louder…

 _Both of our bodies dripping wet  
_ _On the patio we can make a night you_ won’t forget  
 _On the kitchen floor  
_ _As I softly pull your hair  
_ _We can do it anywhere, anywhere…_

The 112 song filled the room as he opened the door enough to see her…

And his jaw dropped.

Because there was a stripper pole… and there was Felicity, her back to him. She was holding herself up by just her arms, slowly moving her body in time with the gentle background rhythms of the song. She was wearing skintight yoga pants and a tight tank top, highlighting the black bra he remembered her putting on that morning… and a pair of strappy black stilettos that he’d never seen before.

She was…

Oliver watched, enraptured, as she slowly brought herself back to the pole before dropping to her feet. She huffed out a heavy breath and then grabbed the pole again, _flipping herself upside down_ , wrapping one leg around the pole, letting one hand drop to grab her other foot.

The position highlighted the tight lines of her body, the lush curve of her muscles thighs, her gorgeous ass perfectly rounded, _taut_ …

Her hard nipples poked through her shirt.

Her eyes were closed as she hung, her body slowly moving and swaying to the music. In the blink of an eye, she let go of her foot and grabbed the pole again, flipping herself up and using the moment to swing herself around the pole just enough for her ponytail to swing and to land on her feet again.

It was undeniably the sexiest goddamn thing he’d ever seen.

Felicity rolled her head, grabbing the pole and letting herself spin around it, her body hanging limply. Oliver didn’t realize he’d stepped all the way in and was just standing there like an open-mouthed idiot until she suddenly froze.

Neither spoke; they just looked at each other, the heat in the room quadrupling without a single ounce of effort. Her breathing was barely labored, like lifting herself up and down and around that damn pole wasn’t doing a damn thing to her. After a moment, she straightened and raised an eyebrow - in question, in _challenge_ \- and he grinned.

Not sheepishly, like he intended, but _carnally_.

Felicity tugged her lower lip into her mouth, her lids growing heavier. Her eyes dropped down to the obvious tent in his basketball shorts before coming back up; even five feet away, he could see the way they darkened, her pupils dilating with understanding, with her own need…

Moving with exaggerated slowness, Felicity reached up, pulling her hair out of its ponytail. Oliver’s breath hitched as it fell around her shoulders, his eyes following her every movement…

Her eyes never left him. She licked her lips, pushing her hands through her hair, leaving the strands in wild disarray before she dragged her fingers down her neck, over her breasts, to the bottom of her shirt.

She pulled it off, tossing it away, leaving her in nothing but her thin lacy demi-cup bra, the one he could see right through. Her hard dusky nipples struck a sharp contrast with the see-through material.

Oliver gave her a soft moan as he stared at her, following her hands when they slid further down, pushing her pants down her hips, leaving nothing but a matching black thong in their wake.

She slowly spun, following the music, as she pushed her pants down, bending over, giving him a perfect view of her gorgeous ass and that beautiful opening between her thighs, teasing him with what the tiny slip of material hid.

Felicity stepped out of the pants, the stilettos accenting her calves as she kicked them away.

She turned back towards him, and Oliver swung his hand out blindly, his eyes never leaving her, knowing he’d spotted a chair _somewhere_. She smiled slightly, watching him fumble. The second she grabbed the pole he found the chair. He sat down without grace, nearly falling out of it.

He didn’t care.

He only cared that she was already moving.

Felicity gripped the pole and slowly walked around, stepping in time with the music, her hips swaying before she jumped up and spun around it. The second she was near the floor, she pushed herself, climbing the pole slowly, her goddamn hips starting a torturous thrusting motion against the metal that made his mouth dry.

Oliver shifted in the chair, not-so-discreetly adjusting himself as his body grew harder watching her… _routine_. It was a routine. She was practiced, like she’d done this before. The thought sent a little thrill of jealousy flitting through his chest, the thought that she’d done this for another man, for anyone else…

Oliver clamped it down before she saw him, but she caught it, and she smirked at him.

Felicity flipped her hair - fuck, that alone made him harder - before she gripped the pole tight, wrapping a leg around it and arched her back, her hips grinding as she fell back. She pulled herself up, flipping her hair again, giving him a look with so much heat he nearly came in his shorts.

Oliver gripped the chair tightly, his mouth hanging open. Felicity lifted herself again, spinning, gyrating, grinding… his hips started moving in time with hers as she danced for him. She spun to face him, pressing her back to the metal, sliding down to the floor. Felicity spread her knees wide for him, and he watched her thong slip between her puffy nether lips for just a second, sending a streak of wild desire through him as he groaned.

Felicity jumped up, hooking her leg around the pole, spinning, and landed, pulling herself up again, never losing rhythm as she did it again, flipping upside down. She hooked her beautiful legs around the pool, clamping her thighs around it, slowly dropping, spinning just enough so when her hands let go of the pole completely and she fell back, holding herself up with only her legs…

“Oh god, Felicity,” Oliver moaned. She smirked, pulling up and slowly sliding down, his eyes on her hips where they rubbed against the pole before she hit the floor.

Felicity dropped to her knees and _crawled_ to him. When she reached him, she gripped his knees, spreading his legs, sliding her hands down his thighs. Oliver gasped, straining towards her for more. She stared up at him, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as her fingers grazed his hard cock through the thin shorts, making him hiss. Her hands danced away, and he whimpered his disagreement before she gripped his thighs, arching her body in time with the music, grinding against him.

Oliver realized with a start that he was still gripping the _fuck_ out of his chair. His fingers ached from holding on so tightly, and he groaned, “Felicity,” before he shoved his fingers through her hair, yanking her against him. Their lips crashed together, his body yearning towards hers as she arched into him.

There was no time for patience as Oliver’s hands dropped to her waist and he lifted her up, depositing her in his lap. Felicity moaned, wrapping a leg around the back of the chair, pressing herself into his erection. She was _wet_ ; he could feel her liquid heat through his shorts, beckoning him. When her hips starting moving, with the music at first before she lost her rhythm, the last sliver of his control snapped.

“Stand up,” he grunted, already shoving his hand between them, arching his hips off the chair to shove his shorts down. Felicity did just that, pulling her thong out of the way as his cock came free. Oliver grunted, gripping himself as she lowered herself over him, her thighs quivering. He pressed himself between her silky folds, up against her entrance.

Oliver yanked her down and she took his entire length in one quick thrust.

It was quick and hard.

Oliver gripped her hips tightly, slamming her down in heavy thrusts, the chair squeaking on the floor in time with their movements as she bounced. Her silken walls squeezed him, so hot and perfect, her thong scraping against one side with each thrust. Felicity pressed her face to his, her cries filling his ear, growing louder, eclipsing the song as she moved faster and faster, holding him tighter.

She came with a guttural shout, her nails clawing at his shoulders, her heels clicking on the floor with her movements as she rode the orgasm out, her inner walls clamping down, spurning his own. Oliver pulled her down in one final thrust. He came, spurting inside her, pleasure suffusing his entire being for what felt like the blink of an eye and forever as they clung to each other, their hips moving, grinding, never letting go…

The End


	20. Towels & Damp Spots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity's first fight. (100% based on Amell and EBR's roleplay in [this interview](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/124011597679/nikkibeckettcsm-cant-watch-no-headphones-but).)

“Felicity!”

Felicity jumped at the abrupt shout from the bathroom. She poked her head out of the bedroom where she’d been hanging up her dry cleaning and narrowed her eyes at the bathroom door. She’d heard the shower shut off a second ago, heard the sound of the rings being pulled back, the brush of the shower curtain, and then…

Oliver whipped the bathroom door open, holding his towel banded low on his hips, still dripping wet and came straight for her. Felicity bit the inside of her lip at the look of dismay on his face - he was not happy… and she knew why.

His hair was still matted with water and droplets leaked down his cheek, over his jaw, and… well, everywhere. Her eyes followed a few of the droplets - he was glimmering in the sunlight coming through the window behind her, and despite the angry bull look he was currently giving her, she felt the deep tug of desire because… well, because it was  _Oliver_  and he was _naked_ under there - before looking back up at him.

She raised her eyebrows - innocently - when he stopped in front of her, _glaring_.

“What?” she asked.

“My towel,” he bit out and Felicity’s eyes dropped to it. She bit her lip as she perused, noting his tight fist holding it together, making the veins in his arms more prominent, and the… bulge.

“It’s a very good towel,” she said, gesturing at it. “You wear it very well.”

“Felicity,” he said slowly, dragging her name out. “It’s not just a towel, it’s _my_ towel.”

Felicity bit her lip again to keep from smiling as he got straight to the point. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Oh.” A droplet slid down his temple and Oliver dragged his hand down his face “And do you know where I found it?”

“In the bathroom?”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Cute.” She smiled brightly and she watched his annoyance ratchet up. “I found it in a disgusting ball. On the floor.” Felicity shrugged in question. “With _your_ towels. The ones that have been sitting on the floor since last night.”

“Oliver-”

“You could at least hang mine up, Felicity, although it defeats the fact that I asked you to not use it in the first place.”

“It’s just so big-”

“How many times have I told you that this is my towel? Mine. You literally have eight other towels to choose from and you always grab _mine_.” When she almost cracked a smile he clenched his jaw. “It’s not funny, I’m being serious.”

“I am-”

He didn’t wait for her answer, pushing past her into their bedroom.

Felicity pinched her lips and turned to watch him… waiting.

He unwrapped the towel, giving her a very nice view of his ass as he quickly wiped it across his chest and face before tossing it away. He just… tossed it away; he didn’t look back, he didn’t look to see where he tossed it, he just _tossed_ it.

And it landed where it always did - right on her side of the bed, where it was destined to leave a gross moldy smell and an uncomfortably damp comforter because he never picked it up again, leaving it there until she spotted it.

Felicity bit her lip again, staring at the towel - feeling her own ire starting to rise because he just left it there.

She crossed her arms, glaring at his back before he disappeared into the closet. He came out a second later, wearing a pair of boxer briefs. Without looking at her, he moved to step around her again, to leave her in the room while he stewed somewhere else - about a stupid towel - before finally coming back an hour later to talk about it.

Or, in his case, to mumble his apology and then suck on her neck.

Felicity stepped in front of him before he could though, and he stopped abruptly.

“Look behind you,” she said and Oliver glowered at her. She looked pointedly at the bed. “Look.”

He did. And the he shrugged, looking back at her. “What?”

“What?” Felicity repeated. “You don’t see where you tossed the very wet towel you just blew a gasket about on _my_ side of the bed?”

Oliver turned, opening his mouth to retort; he changed his mind when his eyes fell on the offending thing.

Felicity poked his shoulder. “Yeah, that’s right, that’s what I get to lay on when I go to bed. Your disgusting damp towel spot.” Oliver huffed, stalking over to the bed, snatching it up. “It’s so sexy knowing I’m laying in my boyfriend’s shower water, let me tell you, thinking about all that-”

“So this is why you’ve been using my towel?” Oliver asked, holding it up for emphasis.

“Well you keep leaving it on my side, what was I supposed to think?”

“You could have just said something, Felicity.”

“Really?” Felicity made a face, stepping up to him as she said, “I did, Oliver. _Three times_. I asked you three times, and you just grunted at me. Like a wet towel Neanderthal!”

“A wet…” Oliver pinched his lips, and she swore she saw a smile as he looked away for a second, before his eyes found her again. “So you resort to towel gorilla warfare?” he asked, and for the first time since he’d opened the bathroom door, she heard the fine tinge of amusement.

“You think it’s funny?” she asked, and he pinched his lips harder, all the aggravation he’d been throwing with eye arrows a quick second ago gone. Felicity smiled blandly. “Alright, fine, you sleep on the damp spot tonight.” She snatched the towel out of his hands and tossed back on the bed, nearly right where he’d tossed it before. “See how you like it.”

“Felicity.”

She turned and waved dismissively over her shoulder as she said, “Yeah, that doesn’t work on me anymore, mister. I’m immune to that growly way you-”

“Felicity,” he said, interrupting her, his voice even lower - just the way she liked it, damn him - and she shivered as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her back against his still-warm chest. He banded one arm over her chest while the other slid down to her hips as he pressed his face into her neck. His stubble - he hadn’t been as conscientious since they’d left Starling City; now it was longer, rougher. It made her shiver even more when he rubbed it right into the crook of her neck and shoulder, just like…

“Aah,” she gasped, arching into him as his hand slid down to cup her sex through her pajama shorts. “Oliver-”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his lips finding _that spot_ and she moaned against her will, melting back. His arms tightened, pulling her flush against him and she felt his hard bulge pressing into her. She lifted herself up onto her toes, and he growled his approval, pulling her closer, bending just enough to press himself against her ass perfectly.

“Stop throwing your towel on my side,” she said, and she felt his lips pulling into a smile against her neck. “I’m serious, it’s gross.”

“Will you stop using my towel?” he replied, his voice muffled, his lips moving against her skin in a delightfully tingly way that had a rush of need slicing through her, headed straight for her center. His hand cupping her moved, slightly, rubbing just enough and she felt a heavy surge of wetness flood her sex. She bit her lip as he said, “Felicity…”

“Yes, I will stop using your towel as long as you stop throwing it on the bed,” she replied breathlessly and he chuckled, applying more pressure… but it wasn’t enough. She moaned, grinding down on his hand, but he didn’t give her anything to grind on. Felicity groaned, turning in his arms, and grabbed his face, the heat in his eyes making her insides clench. “If you don’t stop teasing me, Oliver, I will use that towel for-”

“Like hell you will,” Oliver interrupted, and she glared at him. He was in the middle of grinning when she yanked his face down to hers, slanting her lips over his.

Oliver groaned, wrapping himself around her, pulling her closer against the hardness in his briefs, his hips rubbing urgently against her stomach. She moaned, clawing at his shoulders, eager to get closer and Oliver suddenly leaned down, yanking her off her feet. He barely lifted her enough to carry her, and Felicity tried to hike her leg over his hip, to get more friction where she desperately needed it - the need rushed through her like a burn, hitting her so hard and fast it left her breathless - but he was already at the bed, already setting her down.

Felicity broke away, breathing heavily, and crawled backwards on the bed with a quiet, “C’mere,” that he instantly responded to, crawling with her. She spread her legs, welcoming him, and he settled over her, his mouth covering hers in a searing kiss that she felt to the depths of her core.

Oliver arched his back, moaning, pressing his hard cock against the warmth between her legs, the thin barriers of their clothes hiding nothing. He did it again, and again, rubbing against her, and she spread her legs further, hiking her legs higher, opening herself further until he was rubbing right against her clit.

“Oh god,” she gasped against his lips, and he swallowed it with another demanding kiss. Her juices seeped through her shorts, soaking into his boxers, making everything slick, but it… it wasn’t… _enough_ , she needed more.

She needed him, right now, or she was going to _snap_.

Felicity moaned his name, and he only rubbed harder, but it wasn’t enough… She hooked her leg over his and flipped them before he could blink, and he landed right on his towel.

“Oh shit,” he gasped at the shock of cold and she laughed, crawling off him to tug her shorts down.

“That’s what you get,” she said, rolling onto her back, yanking them down, dragging a trail of her wetness down her thighs. Oliver shoved his boxers off, freeing his hard cock before he sat up and tossed the towel away as Felicity moved to straddle him again.

“Oh no,” he said, knowing exactly what she was going to do, moving to roll over but she was on him before he could stop her. She pinned him down to the mattress, right on the damp spot the towel had left. He stared up at her, his eyes threatening something dark and mischievous, but she didn’t move, even when he raised a challenging eyebrow. “Felicity…”

“Oliver…” she whispered, imitating him as she reached between them, grasping him. His eyes fluttered shut at the sensation and she squeezed lightly, her thumb running over the tip, making him gasp her name, forgetting all about the damp spot he laid in.

Felicity sat up, positioned him at her entrance and thrust down, taking his entire length inside her.

“Oooh… god…” she moaned.

It never ceased to amaze her how perfectly he fit in her. He filled every inch, pressing past every barrier, consuming, taking everything in his path…

Felicity threw her head back as Oliver’s hands slid up her tank top, up to her ribs and back down, caressing her lovingly, before he gripped her hips hard. She anchored her hands on his stomach and lifted herself slowly - torturously - and slammed back down, their cries intermingling.

She did it again, and again, slamming down with enough force for their skin to smack together, to almost hurt, but she didn’t stop, and neither did he.

Oliver’s fingers dug into her hips, rolling them for her as she bounced on him, the quick, steady build of her orgasm already making her feel hot, too hot… it started at her center, slowly expanding out as she rode him, their cries filling the room, the bed squeaking underneath them in time with her thrusts, with his, as he pulled his legs up, lifting himself to meet her.

“Oh god oh god oh god,” Felicity cried, her voice growing louder.

He went deeper and deeper, his own cries growing heavier as he held onto her tighter, pulling her down with more force each time. Felicity dug her nails into his stomach, mindlessly, giving him everything as she thrust down, her pleasure mounting, growing hotter and hotter…

“Oliver, Oliver, Oliver, yes, yes, yes…”

His hands slid up underneath her shirt, circling her ribs, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts as they moved in time with her movements.

“Felicity,” Oliver suddenly growled. She opened her eyes in time for him to yank her down, his arms slipping around her, one fisting in her hair, the other sliding down to her ass, shoving her down harder.

“Aah!” she cried. He pulled on her hair, angling her head to capture her lips as he thrust up into her, silencing her cries. His moans vibrated through his chest, through his lips, through her, just as he changed his angle, rubbing her clit right against him and she broke away again. “Oh… fu… god, Oliver, I can’t…”

She pressed her forehead against his, desperately shoving her hands into his hair for something to hold onto, fisting it as tightly as she could as the pleasure mounted inside her, building hotter and hotter…

Felicity came with a sharp cry, her back bowing, the orgasm shooting through her. The pleasure rocketed across her nerves, her hips moving senselessly, riding it out, covering him in her juices.

Oliver groaned, his hands falling to her hips to keep them moving, but it wasn’t enough.

He shoved her hips down hard, making her shudder, before he rolled them. Felicity gasped as his hands slid down her legs, pulling them up, pressing her knees to her chest before he started a punishing rhythm.

He pounded into her, with so much force she felt an aftershock quickly becoming more…

“Oh god,” she whimpered, her eyes flying open, her mouth gaped in a desperate pant as she looked down at where he thrust into, his cock wet with her juices disappearing inside her in a blur. Her eyes flew up to his face, tight with concentration, with lust, with need, with love…

He was staring at her, and the second their eyes met, he cracked, his thrusts losing any pace as he sought his release.

“Oh… Felicity!” Oliver gasped, suddenly blanketing himself over, shoving her legs back, spreading her wider and without any warning, she came again; a smaller, sharper orgasm crashed through her, and she threw her head back in a soundless cry as he thrust. His grunts filled her ears, surrounding her, and with one final thrust he came with a hoarse shout, slamming his hips against hers, emptying himself inside her.

Oliver collapsed against her, forcing her legs back even more, and she whimpered. He whispered something she couldn’t hear before he pulled out of her, making her hiss as he irritated the incredibly sensitive flesh between her legs, and fell on the bed.

Oliver yelped and her head flew up, narrowly missing his when he instantly crawled back on top of her. “Oliver, what-”

“Cold,” he murmured, giving her a sloppy kiss before sliding to her other side, dragging his wet cock all over her. He whispered something else she couldn’t hear, nuzzling his nose against the side of her face. With a heavy sigh, he relaxed completely. “Alright. No more towels on the bed.”

She smiled, shaking her head.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and he kissed her cheek, his lips slipping down her jaw and to her neck as he whispered, “Love you.”

*

“Felicity!”

She winced, cocking her head where she sat downstairs, waiting for it…

She heard the bathroom door open followed by his voice carrying down the stairs.

“Did you use my towel?” She made a face, not responding and he yelled, “Felicity!”

“At least I hung it up this time!”

The End


	21. Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: Stephen said "he's running, and assisting children, and cooking breakfast". This's the ultimate domestic olicity prompt Bre!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The first thing I read this morning was [effie214](http://tmblr.co/mg9AdUwAhmQiiglXfvbBdTQ)‘s [ficlet](http://effie214.tumblr.com/post/124642100821), which made my heart so fluffy, so that partly inspired this, and thanks to [aussieforgood](http://tmblr.co/m0gPm3h0EgTJh6Ho0XzvTrA) for pointing out the locale of this pic!)

The steady pounding of his feet slapping the concrete was soothing.

He didn’t have to think about where he was going, or the rhythm, or his breathing… his body knew exactly what it was doing, where it was taking him. He’d ran this route every single morning for the last two months, and he let his mind go blank, let his body take over and just… ran.

Oliver followed the same path he always took, around the small town, taking his time, doing three laps before he started heading back to the house they were renting. The sun had risen half an hour ago and its heat beat down on him, making the sweat already forming under his hoodie - his _green_ hoodie, the only color they sold in the sports store there, much to Felicity’s amusement - especially warm.

The hood was up, covering his ears from the still lingering chill coming off the ocean as he moved… he felt good, _invigorated_ as his lungs burned, his muscles ached.

Oliver rounded the corner on their street, picking up the pace to get up the slight hill. Their house sat at the top, and he saw Felicity already had the windows open; he caught her slight frame ghosting past one of the windows in the bedroom.

The contentment that filled him at the sight was intoxicating, and he smiled, making his way home.

“Ollie! Ollie!”

There was only a few people in his life that ever called him that - Thea, Laurel and the little boy they’d met the second day they’d moved in - he couldn’t say his full name, and had started calling him “Olive” much to his chagrin, which made Felicity giggle far too much, before settling on “Ollie.”

The tiny voice sounded behind him and Oliver rolled to a stop, a few houses from his and Felicity’s, turning to see little Peter running after him. His mom was out in their front yard, watching him, and when Oliver raised his hand in greeting, she did the same, shouting, “Morning!”

“Morning,” Oliver replied through heavy breaths just as Peter reached him. The little boy was dressed to the nines in a full-on Batman suit, the mask hanging from his hand. “Hey, buddy.”

“Ollie, look at my costume, isn’t it _awesome?_ ” Peter asked excitedly, his voice ringing out through the quiet neighborhood as he continued, his words coming out a mile a minute, “We’re having a Halloween party next week, on Thursday, even though Halloween isn’t until Saturday. And we’re gonna do a parade through each class, they’re gonna let everyone bring snacks, and we’re gonna get hot chocolate and Seth is gonna be Robin and we’re gonna have a sleepover too!”

“Wow, that sounds awesome,” Oliver replied, crouching down so he was eye level with Peter. He nodded as he took in the costume. “You look just like him, I bet he’d be really impressed.”

“Have you ever been to Gotham, do you know Batman?”

Oliver smiled. He’d definitely met Bruce Wayne, not that Peter needed to know that it’d been many years ago, at one of his colleges, and Bruce had nearly broken his nose when Oliver had pushed him a little too hard. “I have not met Batman, but I hear he’s a really cool guy.”

“He’s so cool! Have you see his motorcycles, they’re so _fast!_ ” Peter suddenly threw his mask up. “Can you help me put my mask on, it’s not staying when I do it.”

“Sure, let me see it.” Oliver took it and nodded. “Put it on and then I’ll…” Peter was already grabbing it and shoving it over his head with a gleeful grin, his body vibrating with excitement. Oliver chuckled and hooked the mask into the costume behind Peter’s head, keeping it secure. “There you go.”

“Yes!” Peter said, jumping up and down, his hands running all over the mask. “I’m Batman!”

“Yeah you are!” Oliver said, and he held his hand up for a high five that Peter gave him with incredible enthusiasm. “Are you going trick-or-treating as Batman too?”

Oliver’s ears picked up the slight squeak in the gate in front of their house. He glanced back as Felicity stepped out, making her way over to them, wrapping a sweater around her shoulders with a small smile. He returned it, his eyes lingering for a moment - just like they always did, because… she was _here_ \- before turning back to Peter.

“No, this is just for school, my mom’s making me a costume for trick-or-treating. She said it’s really special.”

“Oh yeah?” Oliver asked.

“Holy moly, Peter, you look amazing!” Felicity said. Her hand ghosted over Oliver’s head and fell to his shoulder before she crouched down next to him, taking Peter in. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say Batman’s dropped down in South Bend!”

“I’m not _actually_ Batman, Felicity,” Peter said patiently, pronouncing her name perfectly. Why he could say Felicity, but not Oliver…

“Could’ve fooled me,” Felicity replied, shaking her head with awe. “You look just like him.” That made Peter’s face practically break from smiling. “What are you going as on Halloween?”

“The Arrow!”

Oliver’s heart came to a dead stop as he stiffened; Felicity’s hand fell on his knee in the next instant.

White noise filled his ears, his heart jump-starting just as quickly as it had stopped, right up into his throat at the pure _excitement_ on Peter’s face as he explained to Felicity who the Arrow was and…

“… and we used to live in Starling City, and all these bad guys were running down the street, breaking windows and stuff and my mom was outside, and one of them grabbed her, but the Arrow stopped him!”

“Wow,” Felicity said, the word cracking as her hand tightened. He swallowed past the lump building in his throat, unable to say anything as his eyes switched to Peter’s mom for a moment, where she was tugging on gardening gloves, the early morning sun highlighting her. Felicity’s voice was stronger as she continued, “That sounds like it was really scary.”

“I was really scared,” Peter replied, nodding sagely. “But then I wasn’t, because he saved us. He’s a hero.”

An indescribable feeling filled Oliver as he stared at Peter… When his lips trembled, he pinched them together, taking a steadying breath as his words echoed through his head… _“He’s a hero.”_ Oliver caught Felicity staring at him from the corner of his eye and he looked over at her; a light sheen of tears covered her eyes before she blinked them away.

“You know, Peter,” she said, turning back to the little boy. “Did you know The Arrow is my favorite hero?”

“He is?” Peter asked incredulously.

Felicity nodded, sliding her eyes back to Oliver for a second. “I think he’s Oliver’s too.” 

“No way!” Oliver barely had a second to nod before Peter shot his hand up for another high five. “That’s awesome!”

“Yeah,” was all Oliver could manage as their hands collided.

“Can I come show you my costume when it’s ready?” Peter asked. “She’s almost done with it! She even made me a bow!”

“He would love that,” Felicity said, and Oliver nodded. Peter pulled his Batman mask off, his eyes sparkling and stepped in, wrapping his arms around Oliver’s shoulders. Felicity’s fingers dug into his knee as he froze for a split second, before returning it, wrapping his arms around him lightly.

“Thanks, buddy,” Oliver said so softly he wasn’t sure Peter even heard him.

“Peter, can I get a picture of you as Batman?” Felicity asked, pushing back to her feet, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. “We gotta get some ideas for Oliver to dress up.”

“You’re gonna go as Batman on Halloween too?” Peter asked as Felicity stepped back a few paces, already raising her phone. “I’ll be The Arrow and you be Batman!”

“Yeah, maybe I will,” Oliver replied with a shaky grin.

“Alright, you two, look over here,” Felicity said, and they both did, grinning… a quick flash later, she was staring at her phone with a quiet smile before looking back at them, her eyes finding Oliver’s.

Peter high-fived him again, promising to come back to show him his costume when it was ready before running back to his house.  Felicity came up beside him as he stood, both of them watching the little boy sail down the street, his arms flailing as he yelled something at his mother.

Felicity wrapped her arm around his waist, leaning her head on his shoulder. “That might be the best thing that’s ever happened.”

Oliver let out a breathy chuckle, his eyes on Peter. His mother listened to his enthusiastic words, nodding along, and then she looked back at them with a grin, raising her hand in another wave.

They both waved and turned back to their house.

“You okay?” she asked quietly.

Oliver nodded, turning to press a soft kiss to the crown of her head. “Yeah. I am. I am very okay.”

“Good,” Felicity said, stopping them and pushing herself to her toes for a chaste kiss. She bit her lip. “Because I might’ve tried to make pancakes again and it didn’t go very well. Again.” Oliver laughed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Make me an omelet?”

“Gladly,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her again. And again… “But only if you do the laundry.”

“If it means I get to see you walking around wearing only that apron again… then okay,” Felicity replied with a smile and wink. She turned to go inside and Oliver swatted her butt, making her yelp as he followed her in.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/124678429884/stephen-said-hes-running-and-assisting)


	22. The Sex and Karaoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: "It'll be fun," he said...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was talking with agentsassydirewolf a while ago - a long while ago, I’ve been sitting on the beginning draft of this fic for a while - about how everything Olicity makes us think about sexy times, which naturally led to her mentioning Jared Padalecki in Meat Swap and then this happened…

**“’It’ll be fun,’ he said.”**

She huffed.

“’I want to try something different.’ Come on, it’ll be fun…’” Felicity snorted before grunting as Oliver’s heavy bulk leaned even more onto her. “Oh my god, Oliver, you are _heavy_. And stop nuzzling me!”

“No.” Oliver hummed against her neck, his words slurring as he said, “You smell good.”

“I bet I do,” Felicity said, her voice strained as she carried most of Oliver’s weight back towards their cabin. “Like sweat and tequila and those weird shrimps they were making. How come I have to smell like them when I didn’t even get to try them? Like… Oliver, stop… there you go, okay. I mean, they smelled delicious enough, but they didn’t make enough. Why? That’s shrimp injustice!”

Okay, she might be a little _tipsy_ … that might also explain why she wasn’t just stopping and waiting for the world to stop spinning before walking, but the cabin was _right there_. Or she thought it was.

What number was their cabin again?

Oliver didn’t reply. Instead his lips became a little too busy trying to suck on her ear.

“Oliver,” she sighed, meaning to pull her head away from him because he was _distracting_ … but her eyes fluttered for a second - it felt so _good_. And then his tongue darted out, flicking, sending a stroke of heat straight for her core. With an exasperated gasp, Felicity tugged away from him. He let out a whimper of denial, trying to wrap his arms around her to pull her closer, but she dodged his clumsy moves easily, still supporting him as they stumbled past a cabin that was definitely not theirs.

“Felicity… come here.”

“You stay over there.”

“But you’re right _here_ …” To prove his point, he wrapped his arms around her waist and nearly lifted her off her feet.

Drunk Oliver was _ridiculous_.

“That doesn’t mean you can grope me in public, Oliver,” she hissed as she batted his hands away, and he chuckled like she was the one being ridiculous.

“Mmm, you know…” Oliver whispered, his words surprisingly clear considering. “That’s not actually true.”

He cupped the side of her neck, his lips finding her ear again, and her traitorous body responded like a moth to a flame.

They’d spent the first few days making their way down the coast, all the way through Oregon and into California. It had been her idea to stop in Newport Beach because the beach had looked positively beach-y. And they _needed_ beach time; part of a road trip and going further south on the coast was getting beach time.

He’d wanted to keep going, seemingly intent on just driving, but she’d convinced him - it hadn’t taken much, and the way his eyes had lit up when she’d shown him her strapless bikini had really just been a plus.

Another plus had been a waitress darting over every half hour, refilling their mimosas… and then bringing margaritas. And then somehow that morphed into some tequila shots someone sent over because they recognized Oliver, and that had led to dinner at a karaoke bar where Oliver had somehow persuaded her to get up and _sing_.

She was seeing all sorts of new sides of him since they’d gotten on the road, including this one. She’d barely seen Oliver drink, much less get _wildly drunk_ ; he was a surprisingly happy drunk. For some reason she’d thought he’d slip in something a little morose, but alcohol seemed to be the key to an Oliver she’d never gotten to see before.

And on top of that, he’d actually _crooned_ at her.

Oliver Queen had crooned “Music of the Night” from The Phantom of the Opera to her - the man could _sing_ , it was actually upsetting how well he could sing - before going back up a few minutes later for a wild rendition of “Oh, What a Night.”

When she’d gotten her phone out to record him, he’d _winked_ at the camera, and given her such a saucy smile people in the audience had started catcalling.

Since when was the most stoic man she’d ever met the most outgoing drunk ever?  She knew what Ollie Queen had been like because he had been in the tabloids every other day… but that had been Ollie, a crazy carefree billionaire kid who hadn’t known what the Fates had in store for him. No, Oliver was a different kind of drunk. He wasn’t obnoxious and rude. Oliver these days was a mushy, touchy-feely, happy drunk, and that made _her_ happy, it really did…

Except when he could barely walk straight enough to get back to their cabin.

Which was _somewhere close_ ,she was sure of it.

Oliver’s hand slipped under her shirt, his warm palm skating over her damp skin, moving up her ribs.

Felicity’s breath hitched, goosebumps making her shiver before she covered his hand through her shirt, whispering, “Oliver, _public_.”

“Don’t care,” he replied, his lips finding her ear again and her eyes slid shut - in exasperation, surely, not in _‘oh my god, please don’t stop.’_ They skated down the column of her neck, leaving a tingling trail of heat that was a wicked combination with the chilly air coming off the ocean. “I want you, Felicity.”

“Oliver…” Felicity tried valiantly to keep his hand in place, but he was persistent. He wiggled free and pushed it further up, sliding his fingers underneath her bikini top. He shoved the material out of the way and cupped her breast; his rough palm scraped against her hard nipple, making her gasp. Felicity gripped his arm, digging her nails in as hard as she could, planning on tugging him away… but the sensation felt overwhelmingly _good_ , and she faltered.

Oliver squeezed her breast lightly, massaging it in a way that made her feel like his hand was between her legs instead as his tongue caressed her pulse point.

He flicked his nail across her nipple.

“Aah!” she gasped, arching into him, the harsh mixture of pleasure and pain shooting through her.

Oliver moaned, wrapping his other arm around her waist, tugging her closer while pushing her back against… against…

Against what he thought was a tree, but there was actually nothing there.

Felicity didn’t realize it until the world started tilting. Her eyes flew open, the ground suddenly becoming the sky, everything else a blur.

_“Oli…!”_

They fell into the foliage in a mess of arms and legs, Oliver instinctively twisting so he landed on the bottom. He let out a loud, “Oof!” when she landed on top of him, bouncing on his hard body, nearly rolling off of him before he caught her.

He was already laughing by the time she shoved herself up to glare down at him.

“It’s not funny, you… jerk,” she said. She waved around at their surroundings. “I can’t believe you… just _threw_ us… we’re gonna get arrested!”

That made him laugh even harder, his body shaking underneath hers. She huffed in aggravation, trying to get up, but he held on to her, wrapping his arms around her so she could barely move, much less get off the freaking ground.

And then he slid his hand back up her shirt again. Despite herself she shivered at this touch, but her glare didn’t waver. “Oliver…”

“Why… why would we get arrested?” he asked breathlessly, his voice full of mirth.

“For public… _indecency_ , or drunkenness or… total inability to remember where our stupid cabin is, I don’t know! That’s probably Code These-People-Are-Too-Drunk-For-The-Public, or… 1-2-3-4, or something like that. Get your hand out of my shirt!”

Oliver laughed again, very much so keeping his hand _in_ her shirt, and she slapped his shoulder, trying to get up again but his grip on her was secure. With a sigh that sounded perfectly content, Oliver rolled them over, pinning her to the cool grass. He propped himself up on his elbows, wiggling his hips and she instinctively parted her legs for him, much to her chagrin.

“Oliver…” she whispered, partly in warning… and partly because she didn’t want him to stop.

He leaned down, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. “You are perfect, Felicity Smoak.”

“You’re drunk.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head before he caught himself. “Well, maybe a little, but… but I mean it.”

Felicity finally focused on him. How she hadn’t lost her glasses was beyond her but they were still intact, and just then the moon found a hole in their foliage cubby, highlighting his face perfectly. He stared down at her with a serene smile, his eyes a little glassy, the smile a little dopey, but the sincerity was all there. Her heart skipped a beat at the intensity.

“You’re _perfect_.”

He said it with such vehemence it left her speechless.

“For me,” he said, the words slurring slightly, but the feelings in his words… she felt them as if they were a physical presence, coating her heart. “The world, for… you’re just… you’re perfect, Felicity.”

Felicity blinked, taking a shaky breath before smiling, barely managing a watery, “Oh, Oliver.”

He grinned, kissing her again… and again. He was drunk, she was drunk… they were both drunk, and yet here he was, moving her to tears, making her chest feel too tight because this man - this amazing, amazing man - had finally chosen her, chosen _them_.

He was there, with her, and they were… _happy_.

Drunk and happy.

She suddenly really didn’t care that they were outside and that anyone could see them if looked through the trees the right way. Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck, capturing his lips in a kiss that left them both breathless. He moaned softly, urgently, pressing closer to her and she hiked her legs up, trying to wrap them around his hips but… she couldn’t. Her skirt was bunched between them, leaving her immobile where she cradled him.

“Oh god, Felicity,” he moaned, rotating his hips messily… she gasped - oh god, it didn’t _feel_ messy though, it felt _amazing_. She tried to get closer, but the damn skirt… “Oh, Felicity, Felicity…”

“Oliver,” she whispered back, cupping his face, angling his head to deepen the kiss.

“Felicity…” he continued, like he just couldn’t stop saying her name. She loved it too, loved the way it rolled off his tongue, sounding like a prayer, a blessing, something so beautiful it left her feeling… “I want to have the sex with you.”

A snort of laughter erupted from her throat, vibrating against his lips before she pulled back. “You what? You want to have the sex?” She giggled as he patiently smiled down at her. “What exactly qualifies as _the_ sex, Oliver?”

“I meant sex,” he said, giving her another dopey smile, his eyebrow going up in such a relaxed way it made her heart skip a beat again. He scrunched his nose at her and pressed his face into her neck. “Have sex.” She giggled again. “I want to be having sex with you. Any sex really, I just wanna have sex.”

“Well then, sex we shall have,” Felicity replied, arching her back, angling her head to give him more access as he sloppily kissed his way up to her jaw. “All the sex. So much sex… oh, right there, there… such good sex…”

Oliver hummed his agreement, finding her ear again.

“But,” Felicity suddenly gasped, pushing on his shoulders. He didn’t budge. She tried again, saying, “At the cabin. In the cabin, I mean. We need to find the cabin.”

“It’s too far,” he murmured, nipping at her earlobe as he thrust his hips against her.

“Ooh god,” she whimpered, squirming underneath him. “Oliver, we have to… cabin… go there…”

He moaned, rubbing against her harder.

She tried one more time with a breathy, “Damn it, Oliver…” before she finally gave in…

… only to be interrupted by her phone - which had rolled out and landed on the ground underneath them - letting out a loud beep, one that made them freeze instantly, quickly followed by the sound of a group of people on the sidewalk they’d fallen off stopping.

“Is someone in there?”

*

The next morning, Felicity stared uncertainly at the hour-and-half-long video waiting for her on her phone. She tapped her finger on the counter, making a face at it, unwilling to press the play button, unwilling to find out _why_ exactly the video was nearly eighty minutes long.

That was a _long time_ to be recording something.

What _exactly_ had she recorded?

The night before was fuzzy, her memory supplying her with flashes of images and soundbites here and there, littering the black hole the entire night had started turning into around her fourth shot of tequila.

Taking a sip of her coffee, the hangover they’d both woken with finally at bay, Felicity hit play, just as she heard Oliver shutting the shower off in the bathroom.

The video started, the screen dark save for a few glimpses of moonlight.

_“Is someone in there?”_

_“Oh! No!… Yes, but it’s nothing! I mean, yes, people are in here, but we’re… Oliver, get off me… we’re… just lost. We’re not doing anything!”_

Rustling.

 _“Nope!”_ Oliver. _“We’re lost, we’re not… we’re definitely not having sex.”_

Felicity snorted, her eyes closing in remembered mortification as her on-screen self said, _“Oh my god, Oliver!”_ to the chorus of laughter from the group who’d stumbled upon them.

_“What? We’re not.”_

The video continued on much like this, with them stumbling out of the bushes after a second, her hissing something unintelligible at him, too low for her phone to catch. She’d obviously not realized she was recording because it went on to catch the entire conversation with the three people who’d found them, followed by their drunken walk back to the cabin… one which included Felicity describing - in detail, sounding completely ridiculous considering her words were slurring - to Oliver how he’d looked singing to her, and how she wished she’d recorded it so Thea could see her brother in action. Oliver had giggled, starting to sing a broken version of  “Music of the Night” just as they reached their cabin…

That had been about ten minutes, what else…

The sound of Oliver pushing her up against the door sounded, followed by a very familiar and distinct sound of her _moaning_ … and then him gasping her name, the rustle of clothes, and both of them fumbling with the lock on the door before they spilled into the cabin.

“Oh…” she breathed, her eyes wide. “Right.”

This part she remembered quite distinctly, because they hadn’t been able to wait; they hadn’t even closed the front door all the way before Oliver had her skirt up and she was yanking his shirt over his head.

Felicity stared wide-eyed at the phone, frozen as the sounds of their lovemaking started echoing from the speakers.

Wow…

 _Wow_.

They made a… and they actually sounded kind of…

A rush of heat swamped her, her body clenching as she remembered the feel of Oliver’s tongue on her. Felicity swallowed, her eyes glued on the black screen, listening to the noises she had made as Oliver worked his way down her body. She’d cried out his name _loudly_ \- god, was she really that loud? - when he’d finally tasted her…

Felicity didn’t realize the entire cabin was quiet - too quiet - or that Oliver wasn’t making a single sound, that only the sounds of them from the night before was filling the air… She didn’t realize it until Oliver poked his head around the corner, hair still damp from his shower.

Felicity jerked up so fast she nearly dropped her coffee, her hands flying for her phone to turn it off. She suddenly couldn’t remember how exactly her phone worked as Oliver moved around the corner, stepping into the kitchen wearing nothing but boxers…

Boxers, she noticed, that were quite _tight_ because his…

“Is that… what I think it is?” he asked and she immediately shook her head, but they could both still _hear_ the sounds very clearly.

“I… no, but… yes, because we… we made a sex tape,” she blurted. His jaw dropped and she waved her phone around, emphasizing the sound of her cries through the phone and something much deeper coming from him as he’d… as he’d… “I didn’t realize it was on. Really, that it _had_ been on actually… and oh my god, why is it still _on_?”

She fumbled with the phone, accidentally going back to her home screen instead of hitting _stop_ on the video.

Oliver moaned her name through the speakers.

Oliver’s hand covered hers, stilling her movements.

“Actually,” he said, pulling the phone from her fingers. She looked up at him as he set it down on the counter, and she felt her breath catch at the way his eyes darkened. He wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her against him and she moaned breathlessly when she felt how hard he was. “I kinda like it.”

And then he kissed her, hard. Felicity gasped; he barely gave her a second to wrap her arms around his shoulders before he was yanking her pajama bottoms down and lifting her up on the counter…

He took her right there, skin squeaking on the counter, skin slapping skin, their voices echoing the ones coming out of her phone…

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/126948671049/itll-be-fun-he-said)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	23. Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity overhears Oliver saying they aren't married "yet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Can you write a fic where felicity overhears oliver saying they aren't married "yet" when yet another passerby/neighbour asks how long they've been married for??

This box was ridiculously unwieldy, but it made sense in a weird way. The shelf that had come in the box was even more unwieldy, all awkward and having oblong pieces that didn’t look like they went anywhere but were actually integral to the overall structure… so of course the box had more attitude than was necessary housing _that_ thing.

She loved leaning shelves, they cured some weird aesthetic need she didn’t even know she had, but she hated putting them together, and she hated the boxes they came in. Especially this one - it was actually  _taller_ than her. It was shelf box injustice.

Felicity got the box outside - having to maneuver like a crazy person to fit it through the back sliding door - and lifted it over her head as she made her way to the side of the house.

“Into the recycling bin with you, my evil giant friend,” she whispered as she rounded the corner. 

Something heavy and metal clinked on the other side of the fence separating the front from the back, and Felicity recognized the sound of Oliver hauling their old lawnmower up onto the driveway, pushing it along the concrete to stow back in the shed.

He wasn’t alone.

Felicity smiled, shaking her head as she set the box down and waited for him to open the gate, listening to him talk to Stan.

“Do you wanna bring those lamb skewers you made last time? Paul almost died when they ran out, I had to resuscitate him with wine.”  


Oliver laughed. “Definitely. Although I can’t be sure how many’ll make it over, I made a helluva lot more last time before Felicity got to them.”

Felicity made a face, shooting the fence a _look_  as Stan said, “I’d be mad at her except she has really good taste. I don’t know what you do to that lamb, but it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Oliver chuckled. “Thank you. So seven tonight?”  


“That’s the time.”  


“Thanks for inviting us, and congratulations again.”

“Don’t thank me, I should be thanking you for coming. We’ve been waiting for so long for this to happen, we’re just… we’re over the moon. We’re beyond the moon actually. We’re over Jupiter.”  


Oliver laughed and clapped his hand over Stan’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you guys. You’ll be great parents.” 

“Thanks, man. I hope you’re right.” Oliver said something she couldn’t hear before Stan continued, “So when are you two heading down that road? You guys bought this giant house… kids are in the future, right? How long have you two been married, I don’t think I’ve ever asked.”  


Felicity’s heart skipped a beat, the same way it always did when people assumed they were married, or asked, or introduced them to others like they were in fact married… 

It just skipped a beat - in excitement or in trepidation, she wasn’t sure just yet, but it did. 

Every single time.

“Oh, we’re not married,” Oliver said… and Felicity would be lying if she said she didn’t hear the grin on his face. “Yet.”  


Felicity’s heart seized and she bit her lip to stop herself from making a sound.

This time her heart definitely skipped a beat. 

And it was definitely not with trepidation.

“She’s the right one to swoop up, Queen, don’t wait too long.”

Oliver chuckled. Felicity could see him ducking his head, his cheeks flushed from mowing the lawn in the hot sun, that content grin he’d been wearing ever since they bought the house tugging at his lips…

It was stupid to wait and see what he was going to say - it was way too soon to even be _contemplating_  that, right? It hadn’t even been part of the conversation when they’d bought the house. They’d just… bought the house. Because it felt right.

Everything felt so _right._

“Trust me,” Oliver said. “I won’t.”   


Felicity’s face crumpled for a second, a split second as the emotional ramifications of what he was saying hit her - that _Oliver Queen_ was actually talking about _marriage_ \- and then it split into a huge grin, her heart soaring. 

It’d only been a few months, but at the same time it felt like so much longer. How many relationships had she been in when the guy even _mentioned_  marriage - much less _kids -_  did she freeze? How many times did she gape at the guy in _horror_  because she was so not ready for that kind of thing? So, so many times, and yet…

She was so on-board with doing all of that with Oliver, she wasn’t sure she’d ever been _off-_ board.

“Good, that’s what I like to hear. Well, I gotta go, I have to run to the store for more ‘heathen juice.’ See you in a few?”  


“We’ll be there.”  


Stan made his way back over to his house as Oliver unlatched the fence. He swung the door open, pushing the mower inside before grabbing the wood, closing it behind him again. He had such a look of content concentration on his face as he maneuvered the ancient machine, looking far too happy doing something as simple as putting away the lawnmower after spending an hour mowing the grass… 

He was _happy_. 

With her.

Her heart skipped a couple dozen beats with joy.

Oliver spotted her, and that grin was back.

“Hey,” he said.

Felicity didn’t waste one precious second.  


She walked up and cupped his face - his sweaty, hot, gorgeous, amazing face - and pulled him down for a kiss, one that made both their toes curl, one that sealed their future, one that spoke about the rings they would wear, the baby showers, the cribs, the anniversaries…

The _happiness_.

_Together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/128437237389/can-you-write-a-fic-where-felicity-overhears)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	24. Cake Batter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver's baking a cake and Felicity takes issue with his comments on her baking... leading to a cake batter fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Whatever you do, don't think about Felicity teasing Oliver while he bakes that then results in a flour/batter war.

“I think you did this part wrong.”  


Oliver glanced over from where he was mixing the cake batter, frowning. “What?”

Felicity pointed at the recipe. “You skipped this part.”

Oliver looked at where she was pointing and raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking about the cocoa?”

“Yes,” she said. “You skipped right over it.”  


He stared at her. “Felicity…”

“I mean, obviously you didn’t _skip_  over it so much as completely miss the opportunity to add _more_.” She set the recipe down and picked up the tub of frosting she’d been slowly but surely destroying since he’d started the cake. She took out a spoonful and pointed it at him. “Chocolate, Oliver, it makes the world go around.”  


“It’s so interesting you say that because the last time you tried to bake a cake, you somehow made it really salty.”

“That was a cake conspiracy, mister, and one I’m still certain you were behind.”  


Oliver snorted, turning back to mixing. 

He didn’t hear her move until the spoon of frosting was right in front of his face and then…

Felicity smeared frosting all over his nose. 

Oliver froze, his jaw dropping as he slowly turned to look at her. 

She giggled, biting her lip. “That was for the salty comment.”

He didn’t bother to wipe it off as he replied, “You say ‘comment’ like that wasn’t a true comment,” before picking up the bowl of cake batter. He took a step towards her and all the humor in her face instantly drained, her eyes widening, dropping down to the bowl. “That was just mean, Felicity.”

“Oliver… don’t.”  


“Don’t what?” he asked and she darted out of the kitchen, still holding her spoon and the frosting.

Oliver followed.  


“Think of the cake!” she yelled over her shoulder, laughter lacing her words as she darted around the couch.  


“I am thinking of the cake,” he said, faking a turn that had her going in the opposite direction, back towards the kitchen, right where he wanted her. 

He followed her again, cornering her and she held up her spoon defensively. “Oliver…”

“I’m definitely thinking of the cake… on you.”  


Before she could respond Oliver dipped his finger into the batter and dragged it down her cheek. She gasped, freezing as he continued down her jaw to her neck, leaving a long sticky trail behind.

She stared at him incredulously, chocolate cake batter smeared all over her cheek, and it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Oliver started laughing, and he only laughed more when she angrily narrowed her eyes at him. She dipped her spoon in her frosting and shoved it at his face but he dodged it, dipping his finger in the batter again and smearing it all over her neck. She yelped, trying to get away but he had her boxed in. She tried to get her spoon near his face but he has too fast, instead managing to smear  _more_ batter all over her chest.

“Oliver!” she yelled and he laughed, dodging the frosting… 

Felicity suddenly dropped it on the counter and dunked her entire hand in the batter. Before he could move, she planted it all over his face and it was his turn to freeze as she smeared it all over his mouth and nose, mixing it with the chocolate frosting, leaving light fingerprints of cake batter all over him.

She pulled her hand back, staring up at him…  and silently started laughing.

“Felicity…”  


He had every intention of dunking his hand in and doing the same exact thing to her when she brought her hand to her mouth and licked her fingers. 

Oliver inhaled sharply, the heat in the kitchen rapidly rising as he watched her lips wrap around her fingers, sucking the chocolate off… When she saw his reaction - the way his eyes narrowed, his pupils blowing wide, his nostrils flaring… Felicity slowed down, taking her time.

Her little pink tongue darted out and swirled around her finger and he barely kept himself from dropping the bowl of batter, from grabbing her, from hauling her up against him as his pants grew impossibly tight, imagining all the wonderful things her tongue was capable of. 

He blindly set the bowl down on the counter, not caring if it made or not, and grabbed her hand, pulling one of her batter-covered fingers into his mouth. The sweet mixture tasted amazing on her…  


Oliver suddenly had a much better idea for how to use the batter.

“Oliver,” she gasped breathlessly, her eyes on his lips wrapped around her finger…

He sucked on one of her fingers and she _moaned_.

Oliver abruptly dropped her hand and picked her up, hoisting her up onto the counter, his hands already tugging her pants down as she pulled his face to hers, their lips crashing together, a heady mixture of chocolate and each other.  


They spent the rest of the afternoon putting the cake batter and the frosting to much, much better use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/129027072499/whatever-you-do-dont-think-about-felicity)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	25. Thumb Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity thumb wrestle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: What about..."Is that a challenge?" for the fic prompt.

“Is that a challenge?” Felicity asked, raising her eyebrows at him. 

“Maybe.” He smiled. No, he _smirked_. Like he really thought he’d win. Like he actually thought he was that much better than her.

“Oh bring it on, mister,” she said, sitting up. The sheet fell down to her waist, revealing her naked breasts. His eyes instantly dropped to them, narrowing in thinly veiled interest and it was her turn to smirk as warmth skated over her skin. She waved at him where he leaned against the headboard. “Come on, sit up, we’re doing this the proper way.”  


“I didn’t realize there was a _proper_  way to do it,” Oliver replied. He sat up, the sheet pooling over his lap as he scooted closer to her.  


“Oh there’s definitely a proper way, there are _rules_  to this game, Oliver.” 

She laid them out in strict detail, and he nodded the entire time, piercing his lips to keep from grinning, his eyes dancing down to her chest where she felt her nipples hardening from the cool air in the room… and from the attention he was giving them. 

He loved her breasts. She loved that he loved her breasts, she loved it a lot… especially the way he was licking his lips, his eyes darkening, both of them remembering how it’d felt when he’d…

_Jeez, Smoak, you’re not the one they’re supposed to be distracting here._

“Alright, ready?” she asked, holding her hand out.  


Oliver nodded, gripping her hand, keeping his thumb straight up just as she did hers.

She put her thumb down on one side and he did the same on the opposite side…

“One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war,” they said together. He grinned and she raised her eyebrows in chastisement because _this was serious_. “Five, six, seven, eight, try to keep your thumb straight.”  


It was on.

They danced around each other for a few seconds. He was trying to use brute force on her, trying to get her down, but she was surprisingly faster than he was in this instance, dodging every single attempt. She almost got him but he slid away from her and then…

Oliver suddenly lifted his entire stupid arm and practically engulfed her hand in his, locking her thumb down before she could get away.

“Oliver, that’s cheating!” she yelped and he laughed, pulling her into his arms where they fell back into bed. She smacked his arm, her admonishments highlighted by his chuckle-filled responses before he pulled her on top of him, settling her over his lap, the sheet the only thing separating them… and then he proceeded to apologize.

With his mouth wrapped around her nipple.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/130037716554/what-aboutis-that-a-challenge-for-the-fic)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	26. Jealous Neighbors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver notices their male neighbors like to watch Felicity when she's running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Oliver Queen is a brave man.. I wonder how many times felicity "tried" to make him food.. and he never spit it out.. he eats it what a man In love!!! but I do feel sorry for his stomach XDDD & another thing.. I see so many meet the neighbors or all the female neighbors fics all over oliver.. WHAT ABOUT THE MALES?! LOOK AT HOW HOT FELICITY LOOKS!? do you know anyone that has done a version of the males being all "look at that ass" and have oliver be all >.>

Oliver noticed it a few weeks after they moved in. 

Felicity saw it first, when he’d come back from his morning run, especially the first few days after the move when it was still hot enough that wearing a t-shirt was perfect. He’d see her on his way up the street, standing on the porch, sipping her coffee. He’d come running up the driveway, his shirt drenched with sweat, the white material sticking to his skin, fully expecting a comment or two and a suggestive smile as she made a comment how very much she liked when he wore _those_  sweats… 

But instead her eyes were on the street. Or rather, their neighbors.

Their _female_  neighbors.

He’d glanced around and noticed a few women abruptly turning away, and he’d laughed it off, giving her a very healthy good morning kiss. She hadn’t been placated, and the second time she’d commented on it, Oliver had thrown her coffee cup into the lawn and hoisted her over his shoulder, carrying her shrieking into the house, more than making a statement that he only cared when _she_  stared at him.

He wasn’t quite as forgiving.

When Felicity did run, she wore shorts, although he wouldn’t classify them as actual “shorts.” They were more like underwear considering how damn tight they were, and he damn well knew he wasn’t the only one who “noticed” when she went jogging by… so did every single male in the neighborhood.

It took him a few weeks because she didn’t have a run schedule - it was more of a  _‘I can’t believe you’re making my butt this big with your cooking, Oliver’_ and then she’d put on those damn shorts and off she went. So when he did finally notice, it was because he was outside mowing the lawn… and when he caught a glimpse of bright green out the corner of his eye, he turned…

Not only did he see Felicity, but he also saw John… and Kyle… and Dan… and Mark… and even that sixteen-year-old kid who insisted on roaring through the neighborhood on his motorbike… they all stopped to watch her run by.

Oliver instantly killed the mower as she came up, her chest heaving for air, a giant grin on her face, completely oblivious to the attention she was commanding.

He gave her a chaste kiss, keeping his smile mild, not saying anything…

… until the next time she put on her shorts.

“Uh… you might want to wear pants this time.”  


“What, why?” Felicity asked, looking down at them. She spun a little, twisting her hips, making _his_ pants a little bit tighter as she accented that crease in her waist, making her ass look especially gorgeous.

Oliver didn’t regret a single thing, even though he knew she wasn’t going to like it.

As Felicity spun, his eyes latched onto exactly _why_  she couldn’t.  


“Well, I sort of…” Oliver walked up and stopped her, wrapping his arm around her waist before leaning over and poking the very dark hickey on the back of her thigh… and the other one right under her ass cheek.  


“What?” Felicity twisted to see what he was talking about but she couldn’t _see them_  and so she pushed him away and went into the bathroom. 

Exactly one and a half seconds later, he heard a very loud, “Are you _serious_ , Oliver?”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/130178442634/oliver-queen-is-a-brave-man-i-wonder-how-many)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


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